


Curse of Undoings

by jarienn972



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: False Accusations, False Memories, Physical Abuse, Torture, Whump, Wrongful Imprisonment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-11
Updated: 2019-04-25
Packaged: 2019-10-08 01:14:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 38,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17376749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jarienn972/pseuds/jarienn972
Summary: This is a story that developed from a slightly disturbed idea of what might have happened if a cursed Emma was given false memories by the Black Fairy as part of the Final Battle at the end of S6 that turned Emma against Killian in an absolutely gut-wrenching way. This is 100 percent a whump story, but I tried to make it a little bit canon-divergent, keeping Fiona as the ultimate villain.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, I sat down a few days ago fully intending to finish the next chapter of my WIP, but when I put pen to paper, the muse had other ideas - some rather evil, whumpy ideas that resulted in this. Essentially, the thought popped into my head to have a cursed Emma torture Killian so I decided to set it as part of the Black Fairy's maniacal plans. Keep in mind that the Emma we first encounter here is cursed to do Fiona's bidding as she heads toward the final battle, and she absolutely should rub some the wrong way. While this is at heart a CS story, it is definitely not going to be an easy road so I'm giving fair warning to anyone not looking for a very bumpy, whumpy ride.

It seemed that so much more time had passed than the scant hours since he'd experienced the happiest moment in his several centuries. Mere hours ago, he'd voiced his vows, committing himself to his new bride and then they'd sung and danced in pure bliss, surrounded by family and friends until…

Dark, imposing clouds of pure evil descended upon them, filling minds with the uncertainty of where the Black Fairy's curse might land them. No one knew her plan or her motives except that she intended to enact the final battle, whatever that would entail. So, he'd drawn his wife in closer to his chest as the darkness enveloped them, fearing this may be the last time he would feel the warmth of her body against his. And then all went black.

As he awoke, Killian Jones really wasn't overly surprised to find himself imprisoned, chained to the floor of some dingy, dank concrete-block dungeon. A heavy iron shackle weighed down his right ankle which he could see in the dim light was padlocked to a length of equally heavy chain that ended at a steel ring embedded in the cement floor. A similar shackle encircled his wrist, the tethers long enough to allow movement within his prison cell – from the lumpy cot he lay on that stank of mildew, dust and assorted unmentionable odors to the latrine hole cut into the floor. The chains weren't quite long enough to reach the door of the windowless prison, not that he felt escape would be possible.

Upon awakening, he'd discovered himself to be clothed only in a pair of black boxer briefs and a thin white cotton tee-shirt. He'd been supplied with a scratchy wool blanket that wasn't much thicker than the shirt he was wearing and was scarcely large enough to cover half the length of his body. It certainly did nothing to offset the chill of the concrete cell, not that his comfort would be at the forefront of his captor's mind. Most troublesome to him though was the discovery that his brace and hook had been stripped from him, leaving him feeling more naked than his lack of clothing.

So this was what that infernal fairy had in mind for him? Imprisoned, chained down like some rabid animal, but for what purpose? Did she intend for him to wither and die here while Emma hunted for him? Was Emma locked away in a similar cell? There was no sign of nourishment or water being provided, although he still had no confirmation of exactly how long he'd been imprisoned at this point.

He squeezed his eyes closed, needing to picture his wife's golden tresses and beaming smile, trying not to think of what torrid fate may have befallen his beloved. Would she awaken to a sight as dismal as his? Was she nearby or had they once again been torn away to separate realms?

"I love you, Swan," he whispered as a tear rolled across his cheek, falling onto the filthy mattress. "We will find each other again…"

* * *

Her day began as any other – waking at dawn, grabbing coffee at Granny's and then strolling into her office at the Storybrooke Sheriff's station at 8:30am, but this wasn't just any other day. She shrugged off her camel colored leather jacket and hung it on the back of her chair as she leaned in to power on her computer. Yesterday had been a painful day, one she'd spent mostly sequestered from the world and while her day was just beginning, she was already looking to put it behind her.

A stack of open case files awaited her, piled neatly in the middle of her desk. Most of them would be passed on to her deputy – as soon as he decided to show up. Of course, what did she expect after agreeing to hire the Mayor's grandson as deputy? She hadn't really been given much of a choice – if she wanted the extra resources to pursue solving her personal case, she had to do the Mayor a favor. She had to admit though, sometimes it was nice to delegate, and she certainly had plenty of minor cases the young deputy could cut his teeth on.

A minute or so later, she heard the bell attached to the station's front entrance jingle. "Sorry I'm late, Sheriff," the young man shouted as he tossed his jacket onto his desk before scurrying toward her office, trying to avoid direct eye contact with his boss. "Mother Fiona took me out for breakfast this morning to congratulate me for breaking a huge case…"

"Congratulate you for what?" Sheriff Emma Swan scowled. "For being late to work for the third time this week?"

"I know… I'm really sorry about that… I'd say that it won't happen again, but you know…"

"Yes, unfortunately I do, Gideon. Promptness isn't exactly your strong suit but seriously – what's this about you breaking a big case? I wasn't aware we'd had any major crimes around here recently…"

"Ma'am, I broke our biggest case – I captured the criminal we know as  _Hook_. The man who murdered your parents."

"Deputy, you really need to learn to lead with news like that," she scolded, eyes capturing his as she sought more details. "How exactly did you manage to capture such a dangerous criminal yourself and considering that our holding cell over there is vacant, what exactly did you do with him?"

"It was almost by accident, ma'am. He stumbled out into the street drunk and I nearly ran him over with the cruiser. I tried to call you, but your phone kept going straight to voicemail so I called Mother Fiona instead to see what I should do. We decided that the safest thing to do would be to lock him in one of the  _special_  cells beneath the town hall."

"That was probably a good idea. You know that yesterday was the anniversary of my parents' deaths… I can't believe that Hook would have the audacity to show up here in my town on such an important date…" She was practically seething with anger at this point but now the man she'd hunted for the past decade was in one of her prison cells. "C'mon, Deputy, its about time that I got to ask that son of a bitch a few questions. Go set up an interrogation room…"

"Yes, ma'am," Gideon replied, barely concealing his giddy smile.

* * *

Killian blinked as the door to his cell was suddenly yanked open, flooding the eight foot square room with more light than the bare, flickering bulb dangling from the ceiling provided. He had no idea what to expect as he drew back against the rough block of the cell wall, not quite cowering ( _Captain_   _Hook_   _didn't_   _cower_ ), but still taking a defensive position. He had no idea which of Fiona's minions might stroll through that doorway and he was hardly in a position to put up much of a fight.

But what he absolutely wasn't prepared for was the face that emerged from the shadows, his features widening into a huge smile as his grateful eyes took in Emma's visage. In stunned surprise, he said a silent prayer that his Swan was okay and that she had found him!

"Swan!" he exclaimed in relief as she stepped closer to the creaky cot he sat on, but instead of reciprocating his joy, her face darkened and she lashed out, slapping him across the face with as much ferocity as she could muster.

"Don't  _Swan_  me, you son of a bitch!" she snapped angrily at him as his smile faded into a confused scowl. "How dare you sail back into my town right now!"

"Emma, Love, I don't know what you're talking about. Please, we've got to get out of here…" he pleaded, rattling the chain attached to his wrist, but his plea only earned him another blow, this time from her knuckles backhanding his cheek.

"You think you're getting out of here?" she laughed haughtily. "I finally have you right where I want you, and after a decade of suffering, you will pay for your crimes - as soon as you answer all of my questions about what you did to my parents and where you abandoned their bodies…"

"Emma, I've no idea what you've been led to believe, but your parents are alive and well… This must be the curse, Love… You need to fight it…" He flinched as she brought her fist towards his face again, but this time, she stopped short of striking him.

"Deputy!" she shouted to someone who had lingered on the other side of the heavy cell door.

"Yes, Sheriff?" an eager voice that Killian recognized as belonging to Gideon Gold answered before popping his head around the steel door.

"As I thought he might, our prisoner is resisting answering my questions," she replied with an authoritative glare darkening her emerald eyes. "We'll need to move him into the interrogation room."

"Emma, don't do this," Killian urged, his blue eyes boring into hers, trying to soften the hatred he saw reflected back at him, but instead of breaking through any of her armor, he was rewarded with a taser jabbed into his abdomen. His body convulsed momentarily with the burst of electricity that flowed through his muscles until he collapsed to his knees before her.

"That's more like it," she quipped as she switched off the taser, motioning to her deputy to move in as Killian struggled to catch his breath and regain some of his composure. "If he resists again on his way to interrogation, zap him again." She passed the stun gun to her deputy as she gave the instruction. Gideon nodded, pocketing the device as he withdrew his keys to unlock the padlocks on his prisoner's shackles, yanking Killian's arm painfully behind his back as he forced the pirate to stand.

"You heard the lady," Gideon spat directly into Killian's ear as his boss exited the cell. "Time for phase one of your interrogation and I'll tell you, she always finds a way to get people to talk."

Killian squeezed his eyes closed as Deputy Gideon roughly shoved him towards the open cell door, taser pressed against the small of the pirate's back. Killian took a step forward as well as he could, legs still shaking from the blast of the stun gun and encumbered by the heavy shackle still secured around his ankle. He had absolutely no idea what this  _interrogation_  would entail, but after the bizarre exchange with his cursed wife, he was quite certain it wouldn't be pleasant.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had this chapter already completed so I decided to go ahead and post it before the weekend. Things are going to escalate quickly here so again, fair warning is being provided as things are not going to be pleasant for Killian.

The interrogation room, in reality just another dingy prison cell with more shackles and chains, was two doors down from the cell Killian had been sequestered in. They appeared to be part of a subterranean complex of shadowy corridors, but Killian had no idea how far they might extend, nor would he be allowed to speculate as he was forcefully pushed inside the second room. Another man whose face Killian recognized, but whose name escaped him, was already present inside the narrow chamber but Emma hadn't yet joined them.

As Gideon still held the taser against a patch of skin beneath the ragged hem of the tee-shirt Killian wore, the other man reached out to take hold of the padlock fastening the shackle around Killian's wrist and yanked the prisoner into the center of the room where a series of rusting iron chains hung suspended from the ceiling. The anonymous man then took a step up onto a wooden stool positioned beside his feet and waited for Gideon to once again release the steel padlock. Once open, Killian's wrist was dragged above his head and the u-shaped portion of the lock was passed through one of the links of a chain before being snapped securely closed. His prisoner now restrained to the chain, Gideon tucked away the stun gun and went to work getting Killian fully prepared for his interrogation. His assistant held another chain in place next to the prisoner as Gideon took hold of the open shackle that hung at the end of the second chain. The Deputy then wrapped his fingers around Killian's bicep, forcing the pirate's truncated arm into the air as he clasped the shackle around the widest part of Killian's upper arm, making sure it was tight enough that the prisoner couldn't pull free before snapping a padlock on this restraint.

Killian now found himself uncomfortably, and quite vulnerably, suspended from the ceiling, feeling a tug on the ankle shackle. He couldn't quite see what his captors were doing but seconds later, as another shackle was snapped onto his left ankle, Killian gained a fair idea of what to prepare for, hearing more chains being dragged across the concrete. Soon, he found both legs restrained with cumbersome cuffs and tethers that left little room for movement, clearly meant to prevent him from kicking his interrogators and it became abundantly clear that the so-called interrogation would be little more than a torture session. But who would be the one administering the torture? Gideon? The Black Fairy herself? _Emma_?

His question was immediately answered as Emma entered the room carrying a black leather satchel that assuredly would contain the implements of his torture. Her long, blonde locks had been pulled back into a ponytail and her demeanor seemed calm, despite what she was planning to do. She placed the satchel atop a rickety bench next to the wall opposite her prisoner and began to roll up the sleeves of her pale blue blouse. Her back to him, Killian swallowed hard as the realization sunk in that his own bride would be the one interrogating him and his brain scrambled to come up with a way to get through to her. Was there a way to get through these awful false memories the curse had implanted in her?

She gestured to the nameless assistant to leave the room as her deputy retreated back to the wall, remaining as a spectator as he was well aware that his Sheriff preferred the _personal_ touch in her interrogations. She retrieved a pair of black leather gloves from her satchel and pulled them on as she went about her first task – making certain that her prisoner was fully restrained by giving each chain a kick or a tug.

"Emma, you don't have to do this…" Killian virtually begged as she tested the tightness of the shackle affixed to his bicep. "This is all a curse…This isn't you…"

"You're awfully sedate for a cold-blooded killer," she hissed into his ear. "We'll see how long that lasts…"

"This isn't you!" Killian repeated, more forcefully this time. "But I won't fight you, Love."

"I'm not your _Love_ , you bastard!" she shouted as she delivered a hard right to his jaw. "You'll address me as Sheriff or ma'am or I'll give you reason to remember how to speak to me!"

"Emma…" The mere mention of her name from his lips earned him a heavy blow to the stomach that had him straining against the chains and struggling not to vomit.

"Don't you dare call me by my first name again!" she spat into his face. Clearly, whatever this curse had done to her memories, she only saw him as a murderer. This was going to be a far more difficult task than he'd hoped. "Now, you should understand by this point that I can make this extremely painful for you. You either answer my questions or I make you hurt. Oh, and it doesn't matter how much or how loud you scream. There's no one around who can hear you except Gideon and he'll do whatever I tell him to do, understand?"

He didn't really. "I don't know what you want from me, Sheriff…" Killian sighed, knowing only that her false memories had something to do with a belief that her parents were dead – and apparently, by his hand.

"Tell me what you did to my parents," she demanded.

"I've no idea. Last I saw them, they were very much alive and well," Killian answered truthfully as another punch to the solar plexus shook him.

"My parents were viciously murdered ten years ago yesterday, but you already know that since you were the one responsible!"

"Is that what you've been led to believe? I assure you, I've done nothing…" Killian braced himself for another blow, but instead, Emma took a step back.

"Cut open his shirt," she ordered her deputy who nodded as he withdrew a short dagger he'd had tucked into his boot. Gideon grasped a fistful of Killian's shirt to pull it taut as he drew the blade through the fabric in a jagged line from collar to hem until the front hung open and laid his chest bare. He then stepped behind Killian and repeated the process with the back of the shirt, the sheared fabric now hanging from the prisoner's shoulders. His job complete for the moment, Gideon stepped wordlessly away as Emma turned back to face the husband she didn't remember, tapping an eighteen-inch long, narrow bamboo baton against her gloved hand. Killian now realized he was facing a caning and was well aware of the horrors that would entail.

She drew the tip of the baton through the dark hair covering his chest almost seductively, but it was pure hatred, not lust, that Killian saw in her eyes before she moved to his back, slapping the baton against his shoulder blade to test its snap.

"The recognition I just saw in your eyes told me that you know what this is and what I intend to do with it if you don't answer sufficiently," Emma said as Killian threw his eyes skyward as though pleading to some unseen force to rescue him because he knew there was no way he could give the answers she sought. She'd beat him to a bloody pulp before conceding he couldn't provide her answers, but now she continued. "Ten years ago, you sailed into this town, a wanted thief, and you encountered my father, the previous Sheriff. He asked you, a would-be pirate who even called himself _Hook_ , to get the hell out of Storybrooke, but instead of leaving, you defied him. What the hell brought you here? What did you expect to find out except more trouble?"

"I've no idea," Killian repeated with a sigh as the first crack of the baton slashed across the unprotected skin of his back. He hissed and bit back a yelp at the sting, pulling hard on his restraints, but not crying out.

"Don't lie to me, Hook. You wanted something or you wouldn't have come to such a small town. What was it?" She repeated her demand but once again, he could only reply that he didn't know which garnered another blow and another angry welt. "Why did you kill them? What did they do to you?" And again, his refusal to give her the answers she wanted brought another strike from the baton, this one breaking through the skin as it made her even angrier. "You really don't want to make his easy for yourself, do you?" she asked rhetorically as she prepared to try a different tactic. "Fine – you don't want to talk, you don't have to…" she applied three more swats in rapid succession to his already bleeding back as her prisoner writhed and screamed in agony at the assault. Killian had tried to hold back as long as he could, but finally broke as the flesh of his back was repeatedly split open by the lash of her baton.

He couldn't give her anything she sought so all he could do was take the onslaught she inflicted. After six harsh, painful blows to his bare skin, he was already slumping against the chains, but he knew her tenacity. She wouldn't give up so easily. "I swear to you," Killian choked out his words. "I've done nothing you believe I've done. It's all a lie…"

"The only one lying is you!" she growled as her seventh and eighth blows tore open more flesh. The searing pain burned through his skin as stars blurred his vision. Were he not suspended by the chains, he would have collapsed into a heap at her feet, barely able to maintain consciousness. She finally stepped back around to face her battered, but still belligerent prisoner, grasping his chin roughly in her gloved hand, forcing him to look her in the eye. "You're tougher than I thought, but we're far from done here."

"You just don't know what you're doing…" Killian squeaked out as a stream of bloody saliva spilled over the lip he'd bitten more than once.

"Oh, I know _exactly_ what I'm doing," she hissed. " and since you're not wanting to talk – Gideon, gag him and put him back in his cell."

"Swan – please!" Killian pleaded yet again as Deputy Gideon approached him and a device fashioned from leather straps and steel rings was yanked harshly over his head. A rubber bit was forced between his teeth and the leather straps were tugged into position across his cheeks, under his jaw and over the crown of his head before being secured with a series of buckles and locks at the back of his skull and at the nape of his neck. He tried to push against the invasive gag with his tongue, but it wouldn't budge, adding a new level of humiliation and torture to his captivity.

Killian watched with tear-swollen eyes as Emma peeled off her blood-splattered gloves, depositing them and the baton back into her satchel. The assistant, whose name still evaded Killian, hurried to unlock the ankle shackles while Gideon stood atop the stool this time unfastening the chains above. Their prisoner dropped to the concrete floor, offering no resistance as they dragged him down the corridor to his own cell. His ankle and wrist shackles were immediately re-attached to their chains, tethering him back to the ring but even in his semi-conscious state, Killian noticed there was a third chain. He expected it would soon weigh down his other ankle, but his eyes widened as the assistant hefted a large collar fashioned from two-inch wide, hinged crescents of shiny steel which he positioned around Killian's neck while Gideon dragged the chain toward it and secured the collar's latch to the tether with another padlock. Gideon then shoved his prisoner face down onto the cot, ensuring that the weight of the chain would fall directly onto the raw, torn and bleeding skin of Killian's back.

Killian yelped and hissed against the gag as gravity drew the iron chain atop him, quickly realizing that the chain his captors had fastened to the thick collar was shorter than the others when the steel suddenly pulled tight against his throat, nearly cutting off his air. His teeth gnashed the bit as he struggled to push himself upright before he choked, his captors chuckling behind him before they slammed the cell door closed, leaving Killian alone, in severe pain and forced to drool over an obnoxious rubber gag that he couldn't force out of his mouth.

What had that damned fairy done to his Emma that would cause her to hate him so thoroughly? What horrid lies filled his beloved's head? And what fresh hell would await him later if Emma didn't regain her own memories?


	3. Chapter 3

_This third installment isn't as heavy on the whump, although we do still have Killian in chains. There's a huge clue given here about the Black Fairy's plans and we learn that Killian isn't the only one who still has his real memories. Might he have an ally out there?_

* * *

With no way to know if it was day or night, Killian had no inclination of how much time had passed. He was aware that he'd blacked out from the pain at least once, but for how long? He knew he couldn't actually sleep as it was impossible to find any comfortable position, which was likely part of the planned torture. Laying on his back wasn't feasible with his skin ripped open and still seeping blood - and probably pus by now. His ribs ached if he tried to lay on his side and laying on his stomach was nearly as agonizing as being on his back when the heavy chain dragged across the raw flesh. Oh yes, this all had to have been the intent, furthering his agony. His throat was dry and scratchy as though he'd swallowed an entire desert but there was no relief in sight. He'd finally resigned himself to sitting upright, knees drawn up and tucked under his chin to give his aching head a place to rest.

He nearly jumped at the sound of the steel door being unlocked, squinting as it was pulled open, not even bothering to disguise his fear of what would await him next. A feminine form appeared in the doorway, but this was not Emma. This time, his unwelcome visitor was Fiona, the Black Fairy herself, attired in a sharp, tailored black pantsuit that in all appearances, was likely purloined from Regina's closet. Her hair was coiffed into a tight, businesslike bun and had Killian been able to speak, he would have asked her if she were here to gloat. She seemed to sense the question anyway, responding with a mocking grin.

"Well, aren't you just a pathetic sight, Captain?" she chuckled as she took a step inside the cell, careful not to get to close to any chains that might scuff her patent leather heels as she held her hands clasped demurely behind her back. "I see Emma did quite a number on you already and I'm sure there will be so much more to come. Such vitriol there…" She paused to have a laugh at the early results of her ministrations. "Oh, I know you'd love to tell me that your True Love will win out, but I wouldn't be so confident of that if I were you. I may have outdone myself with the amount of loathing I instilled in your lovely bride…"

Killian shifted positions, straining against his multiple restraints while growling angrily at the mastermind of this curse.

"Oh, don't bother wasting your energy, Jones," Fiona quipped as she wrapped the manicured fingers of her right hand around the chain tethering his collar and yanked down on it, forcing his head back so he'd have to look directly up at her. "This is so much fun! And as soon as Emma kills you and severs your bond of True Love, I win." She drew her left hand from behind her back and revealed the object she'd been hiding from view – a snow globe containing a tiny castle amidst a forest scene. "You see, all of your fairytale friends are imprisoned here and as soon as Emma acts on all of that hatred towards you, they all vanish. Everything gets undone and then, it becomes my story to re-write as I see fit. All it takes is for Emma to put an end to her True Love and everything is mine...

"Considering the beating she's already given you and your present predicament, it would seem that the memories I implanted in her of you killing her family are proving quite effective. She sees you only as a cold-blooded killer and it will only be a matter of time until she acts on all of her festering anger and hatred. Do try to make yourself comfortable until then, Captain, but I seriously doubt you'll be here much longer."

Fiona released her grip on the chain, allowing it to strike the open sores on his back intentionally as she cackled, exited the cell and locked the door behind her, the echo of the heavy door slamming resonating through his entire body. It did get him thinking about what she'd said though – she needed to destroy True Love to seal her victory. It explained why he'd been kept here in Storybrooke to be the fodder of his suddenly homicidal wife who viewed him only as a murderer. Emma believed her family to have been slaughtered by him yet in truth, they were trapped inside an enchanted snow globe, not unlike the way Jasmine's kingdom of Agrabah had been placed in stasis for centuries when she'd run off to the Land of Untold Stories.

Would there be any way he could get through to Emma? Convince her that he was really her loving husband, not the criminal she believed him to be? Certainly, parts of the fallacy were based in truth, but he'd put that man behind him to make himself worthy of her. His Emma was still in there somewhere, concealed behind all of the Black Fairy's lies. He just had to find a way to reach her before she unwittingly destroyed everything she loved.

* * *

Having taken out some of her frustrations on her prisoner, Emma decided to return to the Sheriff station to relax a bit before round two, entering the squad room with a satisfied smile turning up the corners of her lips. While Hook hadn't provided her anything in the way of actual information regarding her parents' murders, she'd enjoyed taking out ten years of aggravations on him. She'd return later to interrogate her prisoner further but at the moment, she had a few other things to attend to, the first of which was locating a clean shirt. She dug into the stash of emergency clothing she kept in her bottom desk drawer after discovering that a splattering of Hook's blood was staining her shirt. Eh, it was a small price to pay to look into a killer's eyes and punish him for his crimes. She didn't think much more of it as she unbuttoned the baby blue blouse and slipped it off, momentarily crouching in her office clad only in a camisole until she found a deep wine hued sweater that she pulled over her head, kicking the drawer closed with her toe as she stood back up.

Had her real memories been intact, she would have realized that the garment she'd just donned was one Killian had given her. He'd enlisted Henry's assistance to acquire it for her after he'd seen her admiring it in a magazine advertisement. The fabric still bore traces of both her perfume and a hint of his cologne from one of their last rendezvous in her office, but now, her cursed self barely recognized the scent. It was just another sweater to her, but it certainly held some familiarity to another person who'd retained his memories, not that anyone was believing him.

"Henry? What are you doing here?" Emma asked as she turned to spot her teenage son lurking in a corner of the squad room.

"I was looking all over for you, Mom," Henry replied. "You didn't come home last night…"

"Sorry, but you know yesterday was a hard day for me… I slept at the old loft…"

"Your wedding day was a hard day?" Henry asked, confused by her odd response. He'd known people were missing from the town, but until now, he wasn't sure what else the curse may have done.

"Wedding? Henry, did you forget to take your meds again? You know quite well that yesterday was the tenth anniversary of your grandparents being murdered…"

"Mom, Grandma and Grandpa aren't dead, I'm sure of it. They're just missing from the curse, you know, like half the town?"

"Okay, kid, now I know for sure that you didn't take your pills this morning. You're having delusions of curses and fairytales again, aren't you?"

"They're not delusions, Mom. You know it's all real…" Henry argued, worried that now that he'd located one of his mothers that he might have even bigger concerns. "It's all here in the book, for now, at least."

"Ugh, Henry, I swear I'm going to take that book away if you keep getting so caught up in fairytales! They're fiction. Happy endings don't exist in the real world, although at least now that I've found Jones, I can finally put one awful chapter behind me - as soon as he's sufficiently punished for what he did."

"You found Killian?" Henry asked both excitedly and a bit timidly.

" _Killian_? We're calling murderers by their first names now?"

"Murderer? Mom, what are you talking about?"

"Seriously, Henry, you know damned well what I'm talking about! Killian Jones – the vile bastard who massacred your grandparents a decade ago – we finally captured him and he's locked away where he can't hurt anyone ever again."

"Mom, no… That's not true. That's just what the Black Fairy wants you to believe. This is her curse. She wants you to forget the real Killian – to forget that you love him…"

"I think it's time I made you another psychiatric appointment. These fantasies of yours are getting a lot worse. _Love_ _him_? You must be growing more insane… Look, right now, I want you do go home and take your meds, mister. That's an order. If I find out you didn't, I'll have to force you to take them and you know I don't like to do that…"

"Okay, mom," he conceded defeat. Whatever the Black Fairy had implanted into his mother's head was a lot stronger than he'd imagined. She believed that her True Love had murdered her parents and he could hear the bloodlust for revenge in her voice. "I'll see you at home later," he said as he backed out of the station, his mind swirling with thoughts of where she might have Killian locked away. If he could locate his stepfather, maybe the two of them together could break the curse and foil Fiona's plan, whatever it might be.

Henry scampered out of the Sheriff station, but he didn't exactly go straight home as he'd promised. He headed first to the town park, climbing to the top of the play castle where he'd always liked to come when he needed to think. He tossed his backpack onto the floor as he leaned his back into the slatted wood wall, getting a little more comfortable before opening the pack to retrieve his precious storybook – his family's legacy. Placing the book on the floor of the play castle, he opened it to the center, disturbed to see that even more of the image was deteriorating, portions of it missing. He flipped through several more pages that were also gradually fading away.

Was that what this curse was all about? Undoing all of the stories? Erasing all of the lessons learned? He knew that his grandparents and his other mother were missing, but he didn't think for a moment that they were dead. Half of Storybrooke had gone missing overnight, probably swept away to another realm, but he needed to know why. What was Fiona up to? Why did she need Emma to harbor such hatred toward Killian? No way he could head home just yet. He needed too many answers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we have the Black Fairy trying to manipulate Emma into killing her True Love so she can undo the fairytales... Henry has to find Killian - and fast!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we have a slightly longer installment this time as these two scenes fit together. Killian's short reprieve is over and he's about to face all new torment. The snow globe will also make a brief appearance in this chapter. I really liked the thought of something so pretty being a prison like was presented at the end of S7 so I added my own twist. And now - on to whumping a pirate again...

No stranger to prison cells throughout his lifetime of piracy, Killian had endured more than his fair share of humiliation and tribulations. He'd been on the receiving end of far more beatings than he cared to count but there was something about the woman he loved dishing out said beating that was weakening his resolve rapidly. He knew her head was filled with lies so it was of little use to fight her. He'd rather suffer the torment than dare raise a hand against his beloved, not that his current restraints allowed for that anyway. He wouldn't play into the madness either. If she intended to keep him gagged so he couldn't speak the truth, he would have to find another way.

He now steeled himself for another round of her interrogations as he heard the rattle of a key in the door, bracing as it swung open to reveal the faces of Gideon and his dungeon assistant.

"The Sheriff is ready to continue with your session now," Gideon announced as he pressed the business end stun gun into Killian's side as his silent partner released all of the padlocks from their tethering chains. Once their prisoner was free of the chains, the two men each grabbed hold of one of Killian's arms and dragged him from his cell.

Killian was taken to a different room this time, a little larger than the first torture chamber, but no less intimidating. In the center of the room, instead of rusting chains and iron shackles, there was a slab of rectangular metal positioned vertically. It resembled some type of examination table standing on end, but this one had the addition of metal loops along the sides and bottom and a length of chain at the top. It didn't take long for Killian to figure out what those fixtures would be used for when he was forcibly spun around and his back was shoved against the freezing cold metal. The shock of the icy metal momentarily soothed the welts on his back, but that would be the extent of any pleasantries with this experience.

Gideon's hand pressed against the collar ringing Killian's throat, holding the pirate's head in place as the collar's padlock was attached to the short chain atop the metal table. This new tether was so short that Killian could barely raise his head from the table nor could he look down without the collar cutting into the tender skin below his chin or choking himself. He didn't need to see what his captors were doing to know what was happening though. His hand was yanked to the side and the shackle was attached to one of those steel loops, but then his perspective was drastically changed as the metal slab was pushed backward, jolting to a stop with Killian now laying uncomfortably on his aching back. Staring at the single lightbulb dangling from the ceiling above, he could feel a shackle being attached to his previously unrestrained ankle while hearing the clicks of padlocks securing both legs to the table. Only his stumped arm remained free but it seemed to be of little concern to his captors who clearly believed he was fully restrained and now ready for the next  _interrogation_ , although the realization that they'd not removed the gag meant he probably wasn't expected to do any talking.

He tried to turn his head to see the expression on his wife's face as she entered the chamber but he didn't have enough range of motion to see her yet. He could smell her perfume though, sweet and flowery against the putrid stench he knew was emanating from his own body. But it wasn't long before she was there, leaning over him and suddenly, he'd never felt more vulnerable. The infuriating gag didn't allow for easy swallowing and right now, he was trying to swallow back the biggest lump forming in his parched throat, emotions conflicted between primal fear and the intensity of the love he still felt for this woman.

"Been enjoying our town's hospitality, Hook?" she asked snidely, drawing a gloved fingertip along his sweat-soaked chest. "Since you didn't want to talk earlier, I decided you deserved a little bit of persuasion so that you'll remember how to properly answer a question when you're asked." She gave a brief tug on the short chain that fastened his collar to the metal slab, ensuring its tightness as she prepared to deliver another round of pain. "This time, I won't be asking any questions. I'll just be telling you what I already know while you suffer your punishment for not responding earlier."

Satisfied that the restraints would be sturdy enough for the next session, Emma took a step back from the table and extended her gloved right hand toward Gideon who dutifully placed the stun gun atop her palm.

"So, here's what I know…," she continued. "You are Killian Jones, a common thief who calls himself  _Hook_  after the namesake prosthetic you wear." She paused to flip the switch on the taser and test its spark before pressing it against the bare skin a few inches above Killian's right hip. His body writhed and trembled as the electricity coursed through him, the metal table intensifying the jolt. After a couple of agonizing seconds, she pulled the device away, giving her prisoner only a brief reprieve before repeating the process on his left side. Killian's jaw clamped down against the bit gag so hard that he feared he'd broken a few teeth, although that would likely be the very least of his problems. His heart was racing and probably arrhythmic at this point, but she seemed to be finished with the stun gun, retuning it to Gideon in favor of a new toy.

"That taser seems so tame compared to what you deserve," she stated as she stepped away from the table, turning her back to her still-shaking prisoner as Gideon held up her leather satchel. It didn't take long to locate the implement she wanted and when she turned around to face her terrorized, prone prisoner, her gloved hands were wrapped around a very familiar object. "Ten years ago, you slaughtered my parents with your hook so perhaps it's fitting that today, I'm going to use it on you." She gripped the base of the shiny, steel hook tightly and as she raised it above him, Killian could tell it had been very recently sharpened. It wouldn't have been the first time he'd been threatened by the point of his own hook, but it had never before been at Emma's hand.

She taunted him at first, drawing the tip across the bare skin of his abdomen, leaving a trail of crimson drops in its wake, but the teasing came to an abrupt end as she drove the razor-sharp point deep into his left shoulder. He screamed around the gag at the vicious impalement, nearly choking on the bile that filled his throat, but she wasn't done yet, twisting the point all the way down to the bony shoulder blade before yanking the weapon back out of his flesh. She hovered the dripping hook above his face as though she was about to drive it between his eyes, but she simply held it there, allowing bright red droplets to rain down onto his face. The whole time, his gaze remained fixated on the extension and representation of him that had become a weapon once again, fearing it would claim his heart next.

"Is this how you taunted my mother before you drove this hook into her jugular? Oh, sorry – I forgot you can't answer right now so I guess I'll just have to finish the statement for you. You took sickening pleasure in it, stabbing her repeatedly and leaving behind a huge pool of blood, but that was all I found – a pool of nearly dried blood in their living room. I promise you, before I kill you, you will tell me what you did with their bodies. I owe them a proper burial. I owe my son proper closure since witnessing their deaths traumatized him so deeply that he started hallucinating and inventing a fantasy world of fairytales that only he believes in. If it weren't for Dr. Hopper and his medications, my son would have lost his mind by now and it's all your fault!"

Killian started up at her from the slab with tear-swollen blue eyes, praying he'd see something of the woman he loved in the face that glared down upon him, but all he could see was rage. How could the Emma he loved do this to him? Was there nothing she could see within him to make her recall even a minuscule portion of their lives together? He must look pitiful – chained up nearly naked to a metal table, covered in burns, bruises and lacerations with eyes begging his True Love not to kill him. But no matter how long he stared into her darkened emerald eyes, he could find no love reciprocated in the coldness of her gaze.

His punctured shoulder throbbed but there was nothing he could do to ease the pain or stem the flow of blood since his hand was shackled to the slab beneath him. Every pore exuded fear that his hours upon this Earth were numbered.

"Should we take him back to his cell, Sheriff?" Gideon asked as Emma backed away from the table.

"No – leave him here. He isn't going anywhere and we can finish when I get back." Emma wasn't anywhere near done with her prisoner but the constant vibration of her cell phone in her back pocket was becoming a distraction.

"Yes, ma'am," Gideon grinned almost lecherously as he and their assistant, who had still yet to speak a single word, followed their boss out of the chamber. Leaving their prisoner stretched out and trembling on the metal table, Gideon switched off the light, plunging the cell into near total blackness before slamming the door closed. Killian clenched his teeth around the bit as he heard the bolt slide into place to lock him in, although he didn't quite see the necessity of it. He wasn't going anywhere and was likely already laying on his own deathbed.

* * *

Emma peeled off her leather gloves before ascending the stairs out of the underground prison secreted away beneath Storybrooke's Town Hall. She was ready to head out to lunch, having worked up an appetite this morning, but apparently, the mayor had other plans, evidenced by the two missed calls and three text messages  _her_   _honor_  had sent over the past fifteen minutes. Emma quickly tapped out a response as she reached the main floor, informing Mayor Fiona that she'd be right over to her office.

Despite outward attempts to appear affable, Emma was well aware that Mayor Fiona Black had a much darker side. Who else would keep a subterranean prison beneath their place of employment? Her office itself was mostly impersonal, cold and austere, bearing only a few touches that hinted at her personality like the scattered portraits of various infants. But she and Emma had come to a tenuous agreement: when Emma had needed additional resources to hunt her parents' killer, Fiona had obliged with Emma promising to hire Fiona's grandson, Gideon, as her deputy. Emma had also agreed to keep Fiona apprised of any developments in this case and while Gideon's capture of the infamous Hook this morning had certainly been one of those developments, Emma had failed to keep her end of that bargain in her haste to question her prisoner. Her honor apparently wanted that information shared now.

Emma knocked tentatively on the frosted glass panel bearing Fiona's name that made up most of the upper portion of the door, immediately hearing an invitation to enter. Upon opening the door, she found the mayor leaning over a table beside the window, pouring herself a cup of tea from an ornate white china tea pot.

"Emma, I'm so glad you finally got my messages," Fiona began, flaunting a reptilian-like smile as she offered one of the porcelain cups and saucers to her guest. "Would you like to join me for a spot of tea?"

"No thanks. I'm really more of a hot chocolate girl myself."

"I see… Well, please – have a seat. I want to hear all about the prisoner we're holding downstairs. My dear Gideon informed me that he captured your parents' killer overnight?"

Yeah, I guess he did. Maybe I should have gone out drinking last night so I'd have stumbled into him, but anyway…" Emma casually flopped down into one of the two upholstered leather armchairs facing Fiona's desk. The mayor frowned at Emma's somewhat immature behavior but allowed the Sheriff to continue her story. "Can you believe the audacity of that son of a bitch – to sail back into my town on the tenth anniversary of their murders?"

"Some people have no respect for such important anniversaries," Fiona replied as she demurely placed her cup and saucer atop the desk before taking a seat in her own plush, ebony leather chair. "But I have heard that you've been interrogating the prisoner. How has that been going?"

"I can't say that he's enjoying it," Emma chuffed. "He's denied everything, even trying to tell me that my parents were still alive when he last saw them, despite all of the reports to the contrary. But he will talk soon - although honestly, I really expected him to be more of a braggart so his silence has been a little off-putting. Maybe he just needs a little more motivation…?"

"And you've found ways to  _motivate_  him to tell you what you want?"

"Unless it kills him first, although I can't necessarily say I'd be too torn up over that…"

"Well, I'm glad to hear you're making progress," Fiona smiled as she raised the cup and saucer, hiding most of her evil sneer behind the delicate china. The rage and disquiet she'd implanted within Emma's false memories through her curse were playing out exactly according to her ploy. Her grin widened as she caught sight of the snow globe decorating the bookshelf on the opposite wall. It was only a matter of time before Emma Swan unknowingly condemned her entire family to oblivion, their stories already unraveling as they faded from memory. All that stood in her way were Emma's True Loves – the new husband she was thoroughly enjoying beating the hell out of and her son, Henry. "Oh, and Emma – I'm a bit concerned about your young son. I've heard he's been a tad unwell as of late, spouting off with delusions and other nonsense."

"He just hasn't been the same since his grandparents were killed. He was only four at the time and I know he saw too much and it… it damaged him. Sometimes I swear he lives in his own fantasy world. I'm going to get him back in to see the Doc as soon as this is all over. Maybe it's time to adjust his medication again?"

"Yes," Fiona agreed, embellishing her response with a dramatic sigh. "It seems as though that may be necessary to better take care of him." She tried her best to sound sympathetic, but in reality, Fiona wanted to cheer. At this pace, Emma would break both of her True Loves before the day was through. "Well, Sheriff, I've taken up enough of your time. I know you have work to be done so I will let you get back to it."

"Right now, I'm breaking for lunch and then I plan to break a prisoner," Emma replied, her expression darkening with the fury raging within. She was going to enjoy this. "I'll update you later."

"Please, see that you do," was Fiona's dismissive response as Emma stood to leave. She was going to enjoy this nearly as much as Emma.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, do we think Fiona is enjoying this just a little bit? Keep a watch for that snow globe. It will be important...


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now that I'm back to my semi-normal routine after pulling something in my back a few weeks ago, so I won't be able to update this quite as quickly as the first few chapters. There's still lots more story to tell and plenty more whump to be had. This chapter is heavily focused on Henry but (spoiler alert) we'll have plenty of Captain Cobra action coming.

Henry leaned his back against the cobweb strewn wall of the crawl space behind his mother's office – well, what had been Regina's office before the advent of the Black Fairy's curse and his adoptive mom, along with so many others from town, vanished. For some unknown reason, Henry appeared to have been immune to Fiona's curse. Maybe it had something to do with him being the Author or perhaps it was because he was, by blood, Fiona's great-grandson, but either way, he'd not been subjected to the false memories plaguing his mother, Emma.

Having grown up playing in and around the Town Hall building, Henry knew all of the secret passages within its walls – including this narrow, dusty air vent that was adjacent to the office. Regina had discovered it long ago but Henry made the assumption that Fiona would be oblivious to the secreted space, being new to the town and the occupant of this office for less than a day. He'd come here straight from the park intending to spy on Fiona, ducking inside through the building's rear entrance before climbing into the vent from its access point in the janitor's closet.

He just didn't expect to stumble upon a conversation between Fiona and Gideon, the pair discussing a prisoner being held downstairs. Henry hadn't realized at first who they were talking about, but a few minutes later, he very quickly put two and two together when Emma strolled in to Fiona's office. Henry couldn't see the expression on her face, but Henry was horrified by the lust for vengeance resonating in his mother's voice while bragging about questioning the prisoner about murders that never occurred. He was especially disturbed by her statement that she didn't care if her questioning killed him first. What exactly had she already done to Killian? Worse yet, how could she harm someone she loved so much? Was the curse really so strong that it could destroy True Love?

Now Henry knew he had to find Killian. He knew that his stepfather was hidden away somewhere in this building, or more correctly  _under_  the building in the super creepy sub basement. If he could get Fiona to leave the office for five minutes, he knew where Regina kept a duplicate set of keys in her desk. He'd just need a distraction to get inside and grab the ring, preferably before his mother got done with lunch and before she discovered that he wasn't at home like he'd promised. Nothing difficult about any of this…

He knew nearly every nook and cranny of Regina's office and from all appearances, Fiona hadn't changed much during her takeover. There were a few new touches – photographs of various infants he didn't recognize and a few random knickknacks added to the shelves, but otherwise, his mother's office seemed intact. Fiona just had to leave so he could get inside and he'd be able to check to make sure she hadn't changed anything within the desk itself. It didn't seem likely that the Black Fairy would have had time to search for hidden false panels or stashed away duplicates of the keys to every door in this building and probably to every other public building in town.

She wasn't really the Mayor so Henry doubted there would be much for her to do here in the office. He could only hope that it wouldn't be a long wait before she vacated the office. Mercifully, he heard Fiona's phone ring and while there was no way to know what was being said on the other end of the conversation, it was quite clear that the person she was speaking to was someone else who had retained their real memories. Midway through the conversation, Henry heard Rumplestiltskin's name mentioned and saw Fiona push her chair back from the desk and stand, agreeing to meet the caller in a few minutes. She strolled briskly toward the office door, but Henry noticed an odd action as she left the office. She took a glance at one of the bookshelves as she passed it and appeared to smile, but Henry couldn't tell what object had drawn her attention. He thought it was strange, but it was something he simply couldn't think about right now.

As soon as he could no longer hear the click of her heels on the marble, Henry scrambled to the vent exit and cautiously peered into the hallway to make sure the coast was clear. Certain he was safe, he hurried to Regina's office door which now bore Fiona's name emblazoned across the glass. Shaking his head at the surname she'd adopted – Black, he shoved his hand into his pocket and pulled out a chain containing a copy of the office key that still successfully gave him access. Fiona was so certain she'd win that she didn't even bother to change the locks. And that was a good thing.

Now to the desk where he found that the duplicate key he'd made for the bottom drawer also worked perfectly, giving him access to places he'd poked through so many times before the original curse broke when he'd been hunting for information about his family or evidence that his beliefs were true. That was how he'd first stumbled onto the concealed false panel in the bottom right drawer containing a huge ring of assorted keys in every imaginable shape and size. Over the years, he'd learned what most of the keys would open but there were some he'd never really tested. He knew there were a series of doors located in the sub-basement that he'd never asked about. He didn't know what purpose they served or what they'd been intended to hold, but he was certain that he'd find Killian behind one of them.

It took him under a minute to locate and pop open the panel, finding the keys exactly where they'd always been but while he had the desk drawer open, he plucked out a few other items that might prove useful later and pocketed them all. He knew what trinkets and potions Regina kept on hand here and since she wasn't around to tell him no, he figured he could ask for her forgiveness later – assuming this worked… He didn't care what he had to borrow or steal right now because getting his family back was most important.

As he departed the office, he found his own eyes drawn to the same bookshelf he'd watched Fiona peruse earlier, wondering what object she'd been grinning at. Had it been one of these books or perhaps a photograph? Some other shiny object? There was no way he could know what it had been so he dismissed the thought with a brief shake of his head. He'd worry about finding Killian first and then maybe his stepfather would be able to provide some insight into all of this.

* * *

With so many people missing from Storybrooke, Henry encountered little resistance as he descended the stairs to the basement level of the Town Hall. He hurried past the storerooms and maintenance closets to the unilluminated doorway at the end of the hall marked  _DO NOT ENTER_  in vivid orange lettering. Neither that sign nor the door's lock had ever deterred him before and he was already quite familiar with the dimly lit concrete staircase that lay on the other side.

Those shadowy stairs led down to the bowels of the building which he knew housed the boiler room and a series of locked steel doors. It definitely resembled a dungeon down there so it made sense that they'd stash Killian in one of those rooms. But before he could search for his stepfather, he needed to get past the single guard positioned at the bottom of the steps. The uniformed guard didn't seem overly enthusiastic about his dungeon duty, leaning his chair back against the concrete block wall while playing a game on his phone. No one really knew about this place so Henry figured if he could get past this guy, he likely wouldn't encounter any other guards. Giant, locked metal doors generally provided enough security themselves so the solo guard was probably just there to ward off any would-be trespassers.

Henry had taken into consideration that he might encounter guards along the way so he made his way down the stairs as silently as he could. When he reached the landing where the steps changed direction, he paused a moment to pull a tiny velveteen pouch from his jacket pocket. He untied the drawstring that sealed the pouch and tipped it onto his palm, spilling out a handful of bright purple powder. With a hearty puff of air, he blew the colorful powder towards the oblivious guard's face, waiting as the man coughed a couple of times before tumbling off of his chair and onto the floor in a deep slumber. Henry smiled triumphantly at his first success. Sleeping powder sure comes in handy at times. This guy would be out for at least an hour now.

After the cloud settled enough to be safe, Henry scurried down the remaining steps with his mother's ring of keys now clutched in his fist, ever so thankful that they hadn't shifted in his pocket to betray his position. In the poorly lit corridor, he could see the five steel doors lining one side of the hall that ended at the boiler room – well, officially ended at the boiler room. He'd previously discovered that the room contained a hidden tunnel that connected the Town Hall to the mines, a passageway that, as far as he knew, not even a single dwarf was aware of.

Henry stood before the first door for a few seconds while fumbling through the plethora of keys in his hand, trying to figure out which might be the right one. The lock had a large keyhole so he could easily rule out the smaller keys, focusing on the larger ones that more closely resembled the skeleton key that opened Regina's vault. He had to fiddle with a few of them before locating the correct one but he finally felt the mechanism turning and then tugged the heavy door towards him.

Peeking in, he had an involuntary shiver wash over him as he took in the horrific sight behind the door. Rusty iron chains and shackles hung from the ceiling and he could see more of them strewn across the floor that appeared to be anchored to the concrete walls. He couldn't really tell from his present location but he was certain that the stains on the cement floor, despite being the same ruddy hue as the chains, were probably blood – and he didn't want to venture any further into the empty chamber to find out. It was clear that nothing good had taken place in this room and he was now feeling a bit more consternation about what Killian might be experiencing.

Not bothering to close or re-secure the first door, Henry moved quickly to the next. With little time to spare, he repeated the process with the keys until he found the right one to unlock the second deadbolt. When he pulled this door open, he found the room to be completely dark, but he remained still for a moment, certain he'd heard sounds coming from inside. There was a faint scraping and a rattle that could have been something metallic like the chains in the other room but there was something more – it sounded like labored breathing and maybe -  _whimpering_?

Henry tentatively ran his hand along the wall closest to the door feeling for a light switch. The first little torture chamber had electricity so this one must too. His fingers finally found the switch but as the light illuminated the room, he realized he wasn't fully mentally prepared for what he would find. In the center of this second concrete block chamber, there was a man laying atop a raised metal table and even from the threshold, Henry could see that the man was secured to the table by a series of heavy shackles and sturdy padlocks. The restrained man's breathing seemed to become more accelerated after the light came on and Henry now knew that the rattle he'd heard was from the prisoner's fearful quivering, likely in anticipation of further torment.

He couldn't yet see the man's face, but Henry noticed that on the left side of the table, the prisoner's arm was dangling off of the surface, trailing blood onto the floor that dropped from a scarred and stumped wrist. Only one man he knew had an amputated left hand… " _Killian_?" His initial voicing of his stepfather's given name was more of a stunned statement than an actual question. He knew this was Killian, but he had no idea what condition the pirate would be in, the sight of blood not a promising indication. Hearing a grunted response, Henry moved closer to the table and immediately saw the reason he didn't get a verbal reply – Killian had been gagged with some sort of harness contraption and his neck was encircled by a huge metal collar that was chained to the table too. "Wow, Killian… what happened? Uh, never mind… Let me see if I can get these things off of you…"

Killian watched the boy with hopeful eyes and a racing heart as Henry flipped through a bunch of keys, searching for one that might open the padlocks but none seemed to be the right fit. He had no idea when Emma or Gideon might return and the last thing he wanted was to see any harm come to Henry if he got caught in here trying to free him.

"None of these is the right size," Henry announced in a slightly disappointed voice. "But don't worry – I'm not done yet. We can try these…" Resting the ring of keys on the tabletop next to Killian's shackled hand, Henry reached into his back pocket and withdrew a small, rectangular case that had a zipper running around three sides. The pirate recognized the case as Emma's lock pick set as the teenager unzipped it and withdrew two of the picks, one with a straight, flat tip and one with a narrower, slightly curved tip. Henry went right to work, first on the padlock securing the collar around Killian's throat. With a few practiced maneuvers, he had the lock popped open in no time, tossing the padlock into the floor as he freed Killian from the cumbersome collar. His next task was to free Killian's wrist from the iron shackle which then enabled him to help his stepfather into an upright, seated position so that he'd be able to get a better look at the contraption secured to Killian's head and see how the harness was fastened.

As he swiftly released the padlocks from the ankle shackles, Henry began to take increased notice the wounds on Killian's battered body. His wrists and ankles were chafed and ringed with bruises from the cumbersome restraints. His abdomen bore angry red marks on each side that looked like burns as well as a patch of darkening bruising beneath his ribs and of course, there was a deep puncture wound in his left shoulder that was bleeding heavily, but it wasn't until Henry moved behind Killian to remove the harness and gag that he saw the worst of the horrors Killian had been subjected to. Killian's entire back was laced with crisscrossing cuts and welts, some bright red and seeping, others deep black and blue, pooled with blood that hadn't escaped his skin.

"Wha…what happened?" Henry asked, trying not to stare at the open, obviously painful wounds, but he immediately chastised himself, remembering that Killian was still gagged. "Oh, sorry… You can't answer that yet…" the boy apologized as he located a narrower pick to release the smaller padlock securing the harness buckles. Once the lock and straps were opened, Killian yanked the offending device off of his head and massaged his aching jaw that had been forced open far too long.

"Thank you, lad," Killian croaked out the words in a raspy whisper, his throat burning and parched. "Have you any water?"

"No, sorry… I'll find you some as soon as we get out of here."

"How? Where are we even?"

"Beneath the Town Hall and I know a way out. Come on, we need to hurry."

"You're taking a huge risk rescuing me," Killian said honestly as Henry helped him off of the table, his legs shaking as his bare feet reached the cement floor, not even certain if he had the strength to walk, but for Henry's sake, he had to, but Killian also knew they had another problem – should they make it out of this prison safely, he had no clothing. He couldn't exactly venture outside clad only in his undergarments. "Also, we have a small problem I've no clothing. I was locked in here with scarcely a stitch…"

"Then we'll borrow the guard's," Henry stated, gesturing toward the sleeping man on the ground as they made their way into the corridor.

"Shouldn't we worry that we might wake him?"

"Nah… I snagged a pouch of sleeping powder from my Mom's desk when I borrowed her hidden ring of spare keys. He'll be asleep for a while yet. The clothes might be a little big on you, but at least you won't be naked."

"Some interesting skills you've acquired, young man," Killian commented with a proud smile curling on his lips while Henry started rapidly undressing the slumbering guard.

"My mother was a thief, my grandmother was a bandit and my stepfather is a pirate. I'd say it runs in the family."

"Indeed," Killian smiled broadly before biting it back with a wince as a wave of pain caught him unprepared, but he didn't let Henry see his grimacing. Clearly the lad had been paying attention during their adventures. Perhaps a bit too much attention, but that would be a conversation for another day. Escaping this hellhole was his foremost priority then he'd think about giving lessons on misspent youth.  _Maybe after vanquishing a fairy_ …


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time for a new chapter! We left off with Henry rescuing Killian from the torture chamber, but they're far from being free. Killian's hurt and Henry has few options to get help as nearly everyone he knows is either missing or cursed. Doesn't make for an easy escape...

"Henry, how exactly is it that you know where this tunnel leads?" Killian asked with honest curiosity as he crouched, visibly uncomfortable, before what looked like a wooden panel covering up a large section of the far wall of the Town Hall's boiler room.

"I spent a lot of time by myself around here," Henry replied as he worked his fingers into the gap around the sides of the panel, prying it loose with a well-practiced ease. "Didn't exactly have a lot of friends so I'd go off exploring anywhere I could around town, almost always searching for any little clues to prove that the book my teacher gave me was real."

Killian nodded in acknowledgment of the lad's response. He'd heard too many stories of how lonely Henry had been before finding Emma and it reminded him all too vividly of that loneliness and pain he'd felt after Liam, and later, Milah, were gone. He tried to hold the flashlight steady as the boy slid the panel to his left to reveal an entrance to a very dark hole.

"So, where does that lead?" Killian queried once again for clarification, shining the beam of light into the inky void. He was certain that Henry had told him once or twice already but his memory was fading as quickly as his energy, blood loss slowly sapping his strength. In truth, he didn't really care where the passage led as long as it was away from this prison, to somewhere safe where his wounds could be treated and he could find warmer clothing. Blood from the numerous lacerations lashed across his back and his impaled shoulder was already soaking through the shirt borrowed from the unconscious guard causing the fabric to become uncomfortably plastered to the irritated skin. The guard's black uniform trousers weren't doing him any favors either. They were at least two sizes too big and even with the shirt tucked in and the belt cinched to the very last hole, they barely wanted to stay up over Killian's narrow hips, but they would have to make do for now. Far worse was the fact that the guard's boots were way too small so Killian wore only socks, which weren't doing much to keep away the chill of the cold cement beneath his feet.

"It connects the Town Hall to the mines," Henry reminded his stepfather as they scrambled through the opening in the concrete block wall. He carefully replaced the panel from inside the passageway that was lit only by the beam of his flashlight, reclaiming the light from Killian once the opening was sealed which allowed Killian to wrap his uninjured arm around the teenager's shoulders. "Like those cells, I've never found out why this tunnel was built," Henry explained as they set off in near-total darkness. "I don't know what they were designed to be used for, but I used to hide out down here from time to time and I don't think that either of my moms knows this tunnel exists so I highly doubt Fiona knows it's here. I just wish we had some idea of what she wanted…"

"I may have an idea," Killian replied with a grimace, his sock-covered feet not appreciating the unforgiving gravel and rocks strewn across the ground any more than the rest of his body had enjoyed his previous accommodations.

"What? How?" Henry wondered. Killian had been locked away and tortured in the dungeon. How would he have learned of the Black Fairy's plans?

"The Black Fairy paid me a visit during my captivity," Killian revealed. "She filled Emma's head with cursed memories of me murdering your grandparents."

"Okay, well, that explains a lot," Henry sighed. "I couldn't figure out why my mom thought they were dead and why she suddenly hated you so much."

"Hatred would be a kind word to use," Killian grumbled. "Full on rage and loathing would be far more accurate considering my current state. I'm afraid that Fiona is trying to goad your mother into killing me as she wants to sever our bond of True Love."

"That must be why the book is fading!" Henry exclaimed. "As your True Love is being destroyed, the stories slowly disappear. If Fiona succeeds, the entire book and all of its stories might be gone forever!"

"Aye – I believe that is precisely what she intends. She wants to re-write her own stories," Killian stated. "We need to find a way to get through to Emma to stop all of this…" Killian's words cut off mid-sentence as he stumbled, his body shaking as trembling legs no longer wanted to support his weight. He nearly tumbled atop of Henry, but the boy surprised him as he mustered enough strength to keep Killian upright. "Sorry, lad, I…"

Henry stopped him there. "There's no need to apologize. We can rest for a couple of minutes…"

"No – it will be safer if we keep going…" Killian insisted.

"It's alright. You need the rest. I wish I knew if there was someone else in this town we could trust, but I have to assume that everyone else is cursed like my mom. That or they're missing like a Grandma, Grandpa and my other mom…"

"They're not missing," Killian said nearly breathlessly as he fought against the blackness seeking to overtake him. "They're trapped… Fiona, she trapped them all in an enchanted snow globe…"

"They're in a snow globe?" Henry asked incredulously.

"She showed it to me, bragging as though it were some great conquest…" Killian let out a deep sigh as he felt himself wavering, allowing even more of his weight to be shouldered by his stepson as he lost his tenuous grip on consciousness.

"Killian?" Henry asked as the pirate slumped against him, causing the teenager to lose his hold on the flashlight as he needed both hands free to catch a now unconscious Killian. The light rolled a few feet away as Henry carefully eased Killian's limp form to the ground, not even sure what the best position to place him in might be. He could feel the warm, sticky blood that had soaked through the guard's uniform shirt and was instantly reminded that Killian was losing far too much as it oozed from the lacerations torn into his back and trickled from his punctured shoulder.

Once Killian was safely resting on the tunnel floor, Henry crawled over to where the flashlight had landed, needing its light to be able to better assess all of Killian's wounds. He'd already felt the dampness but now that he could see the extent of the stains covering both the front and back of the once khaki shirt, he knew they were running short on time. He stripped off his jacket and draped it over Killian's upper body like a blanket, discovering that quite a bit of Killian's blood was already staining his coat too. Probably better that he was leaving the jacket here with Killian since that much blood would definitely draw too much attention and he was about to undertake another huge risk.

He was going to have to go back inside because he now believed he knew the key to breaking this curse and getting his family back. Now, he knew exactly what Fiona had smiled at when she'd exited the office earlier and it was his duty to his family to retrieve it.

* * *

Henry had to check the display on his phone twice but he was certain that the guard would still be asleep but he had absolutely no idea if Fiona would have returned by now. He remembered a little too late that the extra sleeping powder was several hundred yards back down in the tunnel inside the jacket he'd left for Killian so he'd have to be extra careful. If he encountered someone now, the consequences could be deadly, feeling quite relieved to find the half-naked guard right where they'd left him and no one else in sight.

He cautiously skirted around the snoring guard and swiftly tiptoed up the flight of stairs. Reaching the top step, he inched the door open, peeking into the basement to verify that it was empty before dashing for the next staircase. He had to be increasingly careful as he returned to the main floor, waiting for a woman he recognized as a secretary to pass before slipping into the corridor and making his way toward Fiona's office. The frosted glass on the window made it impossible to tell if anyone was inside but he didn't hear any noise coming from inside so he tested the door, fairly sure he'd remembered to push the button on the back of the door knob to lock it.

He breathed another brief sigh of relief finding the door locked – especially since he did have his copy of the key tucked inside his pant pocket. Now he had to make this fast – break in, grab the snow globe and get the hell out. It was a fairly good, flying-by-the-seat-of-his-pants plan but without his coat or backpack, he'd have to carry the globe in his hand which was going to require an abundance of caution. He'd also have to exit the Town Hall on this level and somehow make his way across town to return to the tunnel via the mines. He didn't dare push his luck with the snoozing guard in the sub-basement. It would be dangerous enough once that man awoke to discover both his clothing and his prisoner missing.

Getting the actual snow globe proved easy but Henry knew the more difficult part would be getting back to Killian. He couldn't exactly run straight down Main Street without increasing his likelihood of being caught. No, he was going to have to flit through the back alleys and parking lots where fewer eyes might spot him. He ducked out of the rear exit from the Town Hall into the nearly vacant parking area and darted across the asphalt with the precious trinket clutched tightly in his left fist. He had to keep it safe, fearing that if he dropped it, he might doom his family to an eternity within its glass confines. All was nearly lost though when he rounded the corner near the church rectory and saw Fiona strolling towards him.

And even worse – she saw him.

He immediately slowed his pace, worried he'd draw unwanted attention if he continued to run or if he made an immediate u-turn. He threw his hands behind his back to tuck the snow globe beneath his belt. _Try_ _to_ _look_ _as_ _normal_ _as_ _possible_ he kept telling himself as Fiona closed the distance between them.

"Henry?" Fiona called out to him using a faux concerned tone that sounded as phony as her position as Mayor. "What are you doing out this way?"

"I, uh… I was just looking for my mom. She wasn't at the station so I was wondering if maybe she'd come by here? Nobody was there either so I decided I'd just head back home."

"Well, your mother did come to see me earlier, but when she left, she said she was heading to lunch. I'm not sure where she went from there so you may want to just try calling her."

"I would, but I forgot to charge my phone last night."

"Would you like to use mine?" Fiona offered, but Henry didn't trust the gesture for a single moment.

"It's alright. I'll just call when I get home."

"Of course, but Henry, isn't your house the other way?"

_Damn_ … _she_ _was_ _suspicious_ _of_ _him_ _already_. _Think_ , _Henry_ , _think_ … "Oh, I was going to stop by the library before going home. Figured I'd pick up a book or two to read tonight."

"Well then, please don't run. There's no need since the librarian won't be back until after two."

"Oh, I didn't realize that," Henry stammered, cursing that he hadn't remembered the lunchtime closure. "Guess I'll have to come back later."

"Perhaps you should forget the books, Henry. I hear that you read too much…" The disdain in her voice couldn't have been more obvious.

"You know me – I like to read," he replied curtly, echoing her tone. "Oh, well, if you see my mom, tell her I was looking for her."

"I will. Just please slow down, young man," she insisted with that same mocking air of concern for his welfare.

Henry begrudgingly smiled at her. "Of course, Madame Mayor." Now he'd have to go the long way around, but at least it would give him an excuse to swing by the park where he'd stashed his backpack before deciding to spy on Fiona. He hadn't exactly wanted to drag the pack or the storybook through the Town Hall air vents so he'd left it in his secret spot near the play castle before his reconnaissance mission turned into a rescue. He had a bottle of water and a few pouches of fruit snacks inside his pack too which he could offer to Killian, assuming he was conscious. Who knows how long it had been since Killian had any food or drink?

Henry waited awkwardly until Fiona was far enough away from him before daring to turn his back to her, removing the snow globe from his waistband before she might notice the hastily concealed object. It has been far too close a call and now all he could do was try not to fret too much and get himself back on track. Had his behavior been too suspect? Would Fiona call his mother? If she did, he and Killian would both likely be dead before the day was through and the fairytales he was trying desperately to salvage would be lost forever.

No way could he allow that to happen.

* * *

Fiona crossed the parking lot with brisk, purposeful steps, lamenting the aches and pains that these modern, fashionable shoes were afflicting on her feet. How on earth had these inane torture devices ever gained favor? Of course, her cramped toes weren't the only thing on her mind after that bizarre conversation with her great-grandson outside the church. She was by no means naïve enough to deny that the boy hated her. Every child she'd ever surrounded herself with harbored that same animosity, but there was something different about this one. Her curse hadn't taken hold on him, a result she'd feared even as the dark spell was cast so she'd had to build in a safeguard, implanting memories of a child who'd gone mad when his grandparents were murdered.

The fallacy she'd created had been convincing enough for Emma, but not for all. A few problems remained, including her miserable failure of a son who had also retained his real memories, perhaps as a side effect of being the Dark One. She probably should have dispatched him to the netherworld along with Regina and the Charmings but at least one fortunate favor to her was that he was more concerned with protecting his estranged wife and his pathetic son. As long as he remained suitably distracted by them, he wasn't worrying about what mummy had planned. Even after their conversation, Rumplestiltskin remained oblivious to the finality of her plot. She'd entertained a fleeting thought that perhaps she should feel at least a miniscule pang of guilt about wiping out her entire family, but she honestly didn't. She'd write a far more successful legacy in her new story.

But the fact still remained that Emma hadn't yet severed her True Love bond with the pirate and that left Fiona herself trapped in this miserable town for a while longer. She needed the Sheriff to snap and finally, if unwittingly, murder her own husband but there was still a possibility that the boy could still pose a challenge. Emma did retain an emotional bond with Henry, even if she was convinced the lad was insane. Should any harm come to her son, it could distract Emma from her more important tasks and that simply couldn't be tolerated. The boy knew the truth and was likely going to remain a thorn in Fiona's side until Emma's job was done. She needed a way to keep Henry off of the streets so he couldn't interfere.

She decided it was time for Emma to rein in her son so she needed to create a bit of a rift between mother and child. Pulling out her cell phone, she scrolled through her contact list until she located Emma's name and number. _Oh_ _what_ _amazing_ _devices_ _these_ _smart_ _phones_ _were_! She tapped on Emma's name on the display to dial, then waited quite impatiently for the Sheriff to answer.

"Oh, Emma," Fiona gushed after Emma picked up. "So sorry to interrupt your lunch break but I was just wondering if Henry had gotten in touch with you?"

"Henry?" Emma replied through the speakerphone, her voice thick with confusion. "He's at home? Why would you be worried about him getting in touch with me?"

"Are you sure he's home? I just encountered him outside the rectory and he told me he'd been looking for you."

"Looking for me? That makes no sense. If he needed me, he'd just call."

"Well, he said his phone battery was dead, but I have to say that I did find his behavior quite odd."

"Did he say where he was going?"

"He mentioned something about going to the library, but he seemed rather dismayed when I reminded him that it wouldn't be open until later this afternoon, so he told me he was going to go home and come back later."

"Did you see which way he went?" Emma asked, irritation creeping into the timbre of her voice as she processed the disappointment of her son's disobedience. "Did he actually go home?"

"I can only speculate, but he was headed in that direction, but unfortunately, I've no way to be certain."

"Thanks for letting me know," Emma stated as she disconnected the call, leaving Fiona with a smug grin coiled onto her lips. She wasn't about to allow a petulant child to derail her plan, especially since she'd now sown her seeds of distrust against another of Emma's True Loves. It was merely a matter of time now until all fell in place.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got through this next chapter a little sooner than originally planned but with a bit of a change. I decided to save a portion for the next installment because it took away from Emma’s last line of this chapter. So, quick recap - we last left off with Killian unconscious in a dark tunnel and Henry nearly being caught stealing the snow globe. How long will both go unnoticed?

Anxiety was beginning to work it's way into Henry's psyche as he made his way to the mine entrance. From here, the tunnel's opening was only about another fifty yards to the left. From this side, it didn't look like much, merely a dark recess in a wall of slate and sandstone where the trickle of an underground stream broke the surface before continuing on its meandering path to empty into the lake. Henry had often wondered if any of the dwarfs who'd spent so much time down in these damp, shadowy mines had ever been curious enough to follow that little stream to its origin, but maybe they'd lacked his drive to explore. Right now, it was probably for the best that the tunnel remained his secret space.

Just beyond the point where that trickle of water vanished into the rock lay a crevice that was so obscured, a person could easily walk right past it if they weren't sure where to look. It was a bit of a tight squeeze to get inside, but once through to the other side, it widened into a tunnel that, by all appearances, looked chiseled out by an unknown hand. Henry obviously knew that wasn't the case as the passageway must have been created along with the rest of the town through Regina's dark curse. But whatever the history, it was irrelevant today as all Henry cared about was getting back to Killian.

Using the flashlight setting on his phone to guide his way through the pitch black, he hurried through the tunnel as quickly as he could manage safely. He'd been gone less than twenty minutes, but if Killian's bleeding hadn't slowed, he feared he might be returning to find a corpse.

No. No, he scolded himself for even harboring such thoughts. Killian had to be alive or the Black Fairy would have succeeded in wiping out their stories by now. Captain Hook was a survivor and now more than ever, Henry needed that statement to be true. As he came around the last bend, he could see the faint glow of the flashlight he'd left for Killian, thankful that the batteries hadn't given out. Getting closer, it didn't appear that Killian had moved at all, which likely meant that he hadn't regained consciousness. Ultimately though, both of them ended up being startled as Killian stirred at the crunch of gravel beneath Henry's feet.

"It's just me, Killian," Henry assured the wary pirate as he moved closer, shining the light onto his face so Killian could recognize him. "I'm sorry it took me so long to get back here, but I needed to go pick up a few things."

"What things...? Why did you leave?" Killian demanded. "I was worried you'd been captured."

"You were unconscious when I left and really, I didn't mean to be gone so long but I was forced to take a detour." He shrugged the backpack off of his shoulders as he switched off the cell phone light, needing to conserve battery power. "I went to get my backpack so we'd have some water and some snacks too. I know you were really thirsty earlier, especially after having that gag in your mouth. Are you hungry at all?"

Henry unzipped his pack and shoved his free hand inside, digging around until he located the still sealed bottle of spring water which he yanked out along with a fistful of snacks, offering all of his treasures to his stepfather. Killian grimaced while struggling to push himself back into a more upright position, the flayed skin and muscle of his back threatening to tear open anew with even the slightest movement. A trembling arm nearly gave out as he shifted his weight to his right side, finally wrangling his unwilling limbs enough to sit before reaching for the bottle. Henry twisted off the cap and then passed it to Killian who gulped down nearly a third of the precious liquid before pausing for a breath.

"Thank you, lad. That was much needed, but no, I'm not really hungry. Not entirely certain I could keep anything down at this moment either." Killian handed the bottle back to Henry who replaced the cap, saving the rest for later. "You took a huge risk by going after all of this."

"It's fine. I knew what I was doing and I was careful. We're safe here, for now at least but we really need to get you some help and we need to figure out how to free my family from this thing…" Henry withdrew another object from his backpack and held it up proudly – the snow globe that he'd procured from Fiona's bookshelf, garnering both pride and a glint of horror from Killian as he recognized the prize Henry was clutching.

"Henry – where do you get that?"

"From Fiona's office. When you said Fiona showed you a snow globe and said she'd trapped our family inside, I remembered that she'd been grinning at something on her bookshelf. I found this snow globe on that shelf so this has to be the one. Is this the one she showed you?"

Weakened by constant pain and the lingering effects of too much blood lost, Killian's senses weren't acute enough to be entirely certain, but even in the minimal light provided by the flashlight, it looked like the same object that Fiona had flaunted before him earlier. "I believe it is the same one, but I'm afraid I'm not fully certain." Killian exhaled a deep sigh, knowing that Fiona would absolutely have all of her henchmen mobilized the moment she discovered the globe was missing.

Henry could see the flicker of trepidation in Killian's eyes which had him immediately second-guessing his hasty actions. "What's wrong? Was I wrong to take the snow globe?"

"No, Henry, you weren't wrong to take it. We do need to have that trinket in our possession if we're to devise a way to free Regina, your grandparents and all of the others trapped in limbo inside that thing, but it also puts us in greater danger."

"I guess it's a risk worth taking. We have to save them. Look…" Henry reached inside his backpack one more time to retrieve the storybook, flipping it open to one of the pages detailing a scene from his grandparents' story – the image of their famously interrupted wedding. He picked up the flashlight and directed the beam onto the page so Killian could see for himself the deterioration that Henry had been witnessing all day. Portions of the intricate text were missing and nearly half of the accompanying image had faded away from the yellowing paper. "Nearly all of the pictures are like this – half of it already vanished since this morning. We're running out of time!"

"I know…" Killian replied, hoping that Henry hadn't noticed his face contorting with yet another wave of agonizing pain shook him. "But who can we trust to help us break the curse?"

"I have an idea of one person who could help us, but you're not gonna like it…"

* * *

The crocodile.

Henry wanted to trust the bloody _crocodile_?

Had the lad gone daft or had he simply lost so much blood that now he was now hallucinating this whole conversation?

"Perhaps we should rethink this, lad…" Killian suggested as he grasped the teen's extended hand and accepted Henry's assistance with getting back on his feet. Every inch of his back seared with the exertion but he was moderately thankful that at least his punctured left shoulder wasn't throbbing as much as before and it seemed that the bleeding had subsided – at least the external bleeding. He wasn't foolish enough to believe a wound that deep had ceased entirely.

"I don't know of anyone else we can turn to," Henry reminded him as he let go of Killian's hand once the pirate was standing on his own accord. He gathered his backpack and slung it onto his shoulders, getting it up and out of the way so he could aid Killian. "I overheard Fiona mention his name while I was spying on her office earlier. I'm pretty sure that it was actually him that she was talking to even though I could only hear her side of the conversation. It definitely sounded like the person she was talking to wasn't affected by the curse either and as far as I had known, only Fiona, Gideon and myself had been spared the memory-altering curse. Since we know that Rumplestiltskin was able to retain his memories under Regina's dark curse by using Mom's name as a trigger, it seems pretty likely that he'd come through his mother's curse unscathed as well. There have to be some perks for being the Dark One after all…"

"You forget that your mother managed to alter my memories with the dark curse that brought us back from Camelot so your theory isn't without flaw. What makes you think that he'd even raise a finger to help us? I'm not particularly one of his favorite persons…"

"Because this is his story too," Henry stated confidently. "If Fiona intends to rewrite everything, Rumplestiltskin's story disappears as well. You've known him for centuries so you definitely know that self-preservation is a huge motivator."

"You do have a point there," Killian agreed as he fought to control his quivering legs, striving to maintain his tenuous balance. It was still a long walk into town and they would have to take great care not to be seen. They'd be safe until they departed the tunnel and ventured into the mine. It wasn't highly likely that they'd encounter someone in the mine, but they had to be cautious. From then on, they'd be exposed so Henry would need to scout ahead at each turn to ensure safe passage to the pawn shop. By now, Emma had undoubtedly discovered that Killian was missing and it wouldn't take long for her to reach the conclusion that Henry had been the one who helped her prisoner escape. She'd have the entire town hunting them both so there would be few havens in which to take refuge. Of course, who would ever suspect that they'd have the audacity to turn to Captain Hook's oldest nemesis for assistance?

They'd find out soon enough.

* * *

"How the hell does a prisoner chained to a metal table in a locked cell manage to escape?!" Emma demanded, glaring fervently at her now wide awake prison guard who cowered before her, head hung low as he shivered in the cold basement.

He had no answer for the Sheriff. He only remembered getting sleepy, then waking to find himself wearing only his leopard print boxer shorts and seeing two of the prison cell doors standing wide open. He'd called the Sheriff immediately, reluctantly confessing his transgression that had apparently given a dangerous prisoner a window to escape and he fully expected to have her wrath rained down upon him.

"And how the hell did you manage to sleep through it all?" Emma continued to berate the hapless guard.

"I'm sorry, Sheriff," the guard replied, unable to make eye contact with her as he fully expected to be fired here on the spot. "I really don't know what happened…"

Gideon poked his head into the corridor at that moment, interrupting his colleague's apology as the deputy exited the cell that had previously held a wounded, shackled Killian Jones - who had somehow managed to escape without being seen or heard. "Sorry to interrupt, Sheriff, but I've gone through everything in the cell and I'm afraid that there's nothing here to indicate how the prisoner escaped."

"Damn, he must have had help then. Who here in town might still be loyal to him?" Emma inquired as she momentarily redirected her ire away from the half-naked guard.

"As far as I'm aware, none of his known accomplices have been seen in the area," Gideon responded. "I thoroughly searched his ship after he was captured, but found no indication anyone but Hook had been onboard."

"Well then, get a search party together and start searching! Round up everyone who might have ever been a member of his crew and find that son of a bitch!"

"Yes, Sheriff. I'll call in as many of the reserves as I can locate. What about him?" Gideon gestured towards the unclothed guard.

Emma spun around to unleash her fury upon the guard once again. "Go home. Get dressed and get out there with the search party!" she ordered. "We'll discuss your punishment as soon as Hook is found and dragged back here. Anyone caught helping the prisoner is to be arrested immediately!"

The guard took a fleeting glance down at his bare legs and torso, wanting to ask if he could have something to cover himself with, but he didn't dare ask. Still avoiding eye contact with her, he squeaked out a weak "Yes, Sheriff," as she dismissed him and sent him scurrying up the stairs in his flashy boxers. Public humiliation would be but the first part of his penalty for sleeping on the job.

"We'll find him," Gideon stated with an almost overconfident assurance. "There's no way he could have gotten too far in his condition."

"I suppose that depends on how much assistance he had," Emma countered, letting out a frustrated sigh. "It's bad enough that my kid disobeyed me and didn't go home like he was supposed to and now, on top of that, I have to contend with an escaped murderer because the guard I trusted couldn't keep himself awake!"

"How do you know that Henry didn't go home?" Gideon wondered.

"Your grandmother, Her Honor, the Mayor, ran into him over by the church a little while ago. He told her that he was going to the library…" Emma froze mid-sentence as a horrifying thought popped into her already stressed brain, causing her jaw to go slack. "You don't think…?"

Gideon picked up on what she was thinking and completed her sentence: "That Henry might have been involved somehow?"

"He's been acting weird all day," Emma explained as she massaged her temple absentmindedly, thinking about their disagreement earlier that morning. "In his damaged mind, he doesn't believe that his grandparents are really dead and even tried to convince me that Hook wasn't a killer. How would he have gotten in here though? He's just a kid…"

"So, should we be looking for Henry too?" Gideon asked, already planning to hunt down the boy, but waiting for Emma to give the word.

"Yes," Emma relented. "I've got a bad feeling that wherever we find Henry, we'll find that scoundrel too. No harm is to come to my son though. If you locate him, bring him in, but I will deal with him myself. I am his mother after all."

"What about Hook?"

"Whatever it takes," Emma told him, setting her jaw firmly while her eyes grew darker with building rage as she stared at the open door to her torture chamber. "But the final blow is going to be mine."


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter ended up a little longer than I originally planned, even after taking out a huge section. I don’t go into a great deal of detail about how Henry and Killian got from the mines into town so no one would get bored, but they do get there. Will they find help from Rumple or will they get caught? Don’t expect things to be easy...

Emma stomped back up the stairs to the main level of the Town Hall in a full blown rage, daring anyone to cross her path right now. She'd had the bastard in her clutches – shackled to a table, weak and bleeding and yet somehow, he'd managed to slip out of her dungeon unnoticed. In retrospect, she probably should have left Gideon in charge instead of the incompetent idiot who'd ended up asleep on the cement floor, apparently soundly enough to be stripped down to his boxers without stirring.

She'd have to contend with the guard's failures later though as she had other priorities to attend to. She needed to locate her wayward son and verify whether or not he'd been complicit with the escape, preferably before the prisoner would have a chance to completely corrupt her boy's fragile mind. She also needed to find the little weasel who'd helped Gideon shackle Jones. If he hadn't properly fastened the padlocks, he'd be held equally culpable in aiding a prisoner's escape. She'd have to contact him as soon as she reached the station, knowing she'd probably have to send text messages since the odd little man was so bashful that he rarely spoke to anyone. Of course, that same shy demeanor also made it highly unlikely that someone could have influenced him – even someone who was supposedly as charming as the legendary Hook.

She shoved open the door to the main floor and stormed through the hallways, eager to reach the exit and the refuge of her Bug before she completely lost her temper – or ran into the last person she wanted to see right now, Mayor Fiona. Emma made no attempt to disguise her dislike of the woman but she'd learned to keep their conversations curt and professional. She knew enough not to rile someone in a powerful position who could end her career in a heartbeat and Emma certainly hadn't moved to this god forsaken town to fail. Her parents had long ago urged her to come here, to have a better place to raise her young son than the slums of Boston, but look at how that had turned out. One fateful night a decade ago had changed her life forever when Killian Jones and his rowdy crew had sailed in to their sleepy harbor. Nothing had been the same since. She'd grudgingly taken over her father's post as Sheriff when no one else wanted the job and she'd witnessed her son slowly lose his grip on reality. Maybe she should have run back to Boston, and maybe she would yet – as soon as Killian Jones was put out of their lives permanently.

"Emma?" She heard her name called from the opposite end of the corridor and knew without looking that the voice belonged to Fiona. She wanted desperately to pretend she hadn't heard the Mayor summoning her but knew it would be pointless to try to avoid Fiona. Better to face her now than drag the agony out further. "Emma, I heard the awful news…" the Mayor continued as the clicking of her stiletto heels on the marble floor echoed loudly. So, Gideon had already called Grandma to tattle… "Is it true that your prisoner escaped?"

"Unfortunately, yes," Emma grumbled, not caring how unprofessional she might appear right now.

"Do we have any idea how?"

"I have absolutely no idea," Emma spat. "Gideon is heading up a search team to find our fugitive. We're also going to round up any former members of his crew and I'll grill them for information if I have to."

"You assume he had help?" Fiona pressed for additional information and Emma was smart enough to realize she was being baited. Fiona had seen Henry coming from the direction of the Town Hall so was it a stretch to think that Fiona believed Henry was involved?

"I'm assuming everything and I'm assuming nothing," Emma replied, keeping her response as vague as she could. "There's a possibility that he wasn't properly restrained. The locks may have been faulty or – yes – he may have had help. It's too early for me to speculate on that right now."

"Of course," was Fiona's polite, but disbelieving response that rang with an accusatory tone. "At this moment, though, I need to report another crime. Something was stolen from my office."

"Don't tell me that you think Hook stole something from your office in the middle of his escape from a prison cell?" Emma queried sarcastically, arching a suspicious eyebrow. Why would a fugitive waste precious time and risk getting caught just to break into the Mayor's office? "What exactly was taken?"

"It isn't anything too valuable, more of a family heirloom, so to speak."

"Any you're certain that this _family_ _heirloom_ was stolen, not simply misplaced?"

"It was on my bookshelf earlier today when you visited my office and when I returned from lunch, it was gone. My office was locked and I certainly didn't remove the object myself."

"Okay, well, at the present, I have far more important things to worry about than a vague missing knick knack," Emma asserted, eager to get back to work. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have an escaped prisoner to find. I'm afraid your missing heirloom will have to wait."

"What if I were to say that I have a feeling the two crimes are linked?" Fiona offered. "I understand that you do have your priorities, but I'm asking that should you come across my belongings, please take great care with it. It's irreplaceable."

"Irreplaceable?" Emma doubted that was the case, but she'd play along. "May I ask what this _irreplaceable_ object looks like so I'll know if I come across it?"

"It looks like a rather common snow globe, but it is very important to me. If you find it, please return it to me."

"Yeah, okay…," Emma sighed, wondering why a snow globe was such a big deal. "If I find your precious snow globe, I'll make sure you get it back."

"That's all I ask," Fiona said with a slightly devilish grin. "You'll see how much it means to me later."

Whatever that meant, Emma thought as the Mayor finally strolled away. How important could a damned snow globe be?

* * *

Henry peered cautiously out of the mine's main entrance, rapidly surveying the wide-open space ahead that they'd need to cross as their first obstacle on their way into town. He'd draped his own coat around Killian's shoulders like a cape, hoping to conceal the majority of the blood stains soaked through the back of the once tan shirt. It really wasn't much of a disguise, even paired with the navy blue knit beanie hat that he'd tugged over the top of Killian's head. At least the extra layers would help keep him warm, hopefully calming some of the tremors and shivering.

They'd discussed the route they'd take before stepping foot from the mines, choosing to follow the tree line past the MacDonald's farm then cut through the school yard. It was Saturday, so they weren't likely to encounter anyone around the school so it seemed far safer to head that way than towards the church where Henry had had the unfortunate run-in with Fiona. The school was only a few blocks from the pawn shop and Henry knew they could sneak through the alleys and between buildings to reach the shop, but they would still have to venture into the very public street to enter Mr. Gold's pawn shop.

Henry tried not to think about the huge gamble they were taking, both in venturing outside of the tunnel and in turning to Rumplestiltskin for help. The mere thought of the danger they were putting themselves in made him nauseous, but the teenager was determined to live up to his family's legacy. He could be a hero. He could find a way to break the curse and save his family, but first, he had to save Killian and unfortunately, that meant crossing into enemy territory.

They paused for a few minutes behind the maintenance shed at the school to allow Killian to catch his breath. It was only a couple of blocks further, but the pirate's aching body was slowing them down. To him, they may as well have been attempting to cross the entire continent instead of mere city blocks, but they kept vigilant as they headed into the proverbial lion's den. When at last they came to the narrow alley flanking the hardware store, Henry volunteered to go speak to his grandfather first while Killian took shelter in a seldom-used stairway that led down to the basement storage level of that same store. The steps, partially concealed by a brick wall, would provide Killian with a place to hide, although Henry feared that his stepfather might lose consciousness and tumble down the cement stairs to split his head open. Well, the safety of a hiding place was more important right now. If found, falling down a flight of stairs would be the least of Killian's problems.

"Try to stay out of sight," Henry whispered to Killian who nodded wearily in response as Henry headed down the alley toward Main St. alone, cautiously poking his head out around the corner and scanning both directions of the small town's primary road. Seeing no one he felt need to fear, Henry walked hurriedly to the entrance of Gold's pawn shop and opened the door, sounding the attached bells which would alert the store's proprietor. His heart was racing as he waited for his paternal grandfather, Rumplestiltskin, to emerge from behind the brocade curtain that separated the business from his private work space in the rear of the building.

Attired in his typical tailored dark suit, the Dark One appeared formidable as always and Henry suddenly found himself second-guessing this idea. "Henry?" Rumple greeted the boy with a quizzical glance. "What brings you here?"

"Uh… I may need a favor," Henry stammered. He needed to be certain that Rumple's real memories were intact before divulging any additional information.

"A _favor_?" the old man chuckled. "Well now… What brings this on?"

"Your mother's curse," the boy stated, quite matter-of-factly. He didn't have time to waste.

"My mother? Henry…" He was trying to play ignorant, but the teen knew instantly that he was attempting to lie.

"Don't patronize me!" Henry interrupted. "I know your memories weren't affected by the curse. I know it was you that she was talking to earlier today."

"And just how would you know that?" Rumple asked skeptically.

"That's my business," Henry replied boldly. "Suffice it to say that I know. What did she promise you anyway? Immunity to the curse? A way for you and Belle and Gideon to live happily ever after? And I'll bet you believed her…"

"Let's say that she did," Rumple began, interest now piqued by his grandson's persistence. "What does it matter to you?"

"It's the reason I need a favor. I need someone who can help break me the curse and to do so, I need someone who can help me stop my mom from killing Hook."

"Any why on earth would I want to do that?" Rumple chuffed. "Perhaps she'd be doing us both a favor?"

"Because if you don't, your mother is going to make all of the stories disappear! I know what she's trying to do, but if you don't believe me, see for yourself…" Henry lowered his backpack off of his shoulder and retrieved the storybook, flopping it open atop one of the display cases so Rumple would get a good view of it. He flipped to one of the pages that depicted a dramatic scene from Rumplestiltskin's own story – an image from his and Belle's early life in the castle. What remained of the illustration had dulled, the once vibrant colors now muted. "All of the stories are disappearing – even yours! Fiona wants to destroy True Love by having my mom, the Savior, murder her True Love in a fit of rage. Fiona's already trapped the rest of my family so they can't interfere, but you can help us."

"Help how?" Rumple queried as he contemplated the boy's tale. It certainly wouldn't have been the first time his mother had double-crossed him so there was no surprise that she might betray him again."

"Killian's hurt badly. He was tortured and beaten in a prison cell hidden beneath Town Hall. We need a place to hide him until we can figure out a way to free all of my family. No one would ever suspect that Captain Hook would turn to his mortal enemy, the Crocodile, for assistance. You're still the Dark One so you must have some way of protecting us?"

"I'm afraid I've no magic right now, laddie. Fiona's curse drained all of Storybrooke's magic."

"But you still have spells and the ability to make potions. I'm sure you can think of something. You don't want to see your story disappear so if you don't want to do this for us, do it for yourself – for Belle and Gideon. Because if your mother wins, everybody loses as all of your stories disappear!"

Rumple returned a bemused grin at the lad's fortitude, entirely certain that Fiona had vastly underestimated Henry's proclivity to meddle. "Where's the pirate now?"

"In the alley next to the hardware store. Do you think there's a way to get him into the shop without a chance of being seen?"

"Sorry, dearie. Afraid I don't have any invisibility spells available at this moment and without magic, I can't just teleport him over. You'll have to figure out that one on your own if you want my assistance."

Henry frowned in frustration but kept thinking. He hadn't exactly expected his grandfather to be overly helpful but maybe there was something he could do even without magic. "Any chance you have a cape or cloak or maybe something similar that I could use?" Rumple gave an apathetic roll of his eyes but reached inside a nearby armoire and retrieved a jet black hooded brocade cape that he offered to the boy. Henry barely gave the garment a glance as he snatched it from Rumple's hand impatiently and rushed out the front door. The cloak wouldn't help much but it might provide a little anonymity – even if Killian might end up looking like the hooded figure that had haunted his mother's dreams for weeks. Of course, she probably didn't remember those since she was now dealing with a new set of nightmares that Fiona had forced upon her.

Running out of the pawn shop with the cape clutched in one hand and the straps of his backpack – containing his precious storybook and the even more precious snow globe - held tightly in the other, a distracted Henry failed to notice that he wasn't alone in the street.

"Henry!" he heard a familiar voice shout his name, sending an instant chill down his spine. "Henry, your mom's been looking for you. I'm going to need you to come with me." He knew it was Gideon and he wanted to pretend he hadn't heard him, but he was too afraid to ignore even this fake deputy.

"It's okay. I was just over here visiting with Grandpa Gold. You can let my mom know that I'm on my way home now. I mean, I'd tell her myself, but my cell phone battery died so I can't call 'til I get home." Henry didn't even bother to take a glance back at Gideon as he responded.

"Sorry, kid. You know I can't do that," Gideon replied as he reached for the two-way radio clipped to his belt. "Sheriff, I've located your boy," he announced over the radio waves. Henry could hear her reply over the crackle of static. _WHERE?_ "Main Street, by the pawn shop." _BE RIGHT THERE_ was Emma's curt response.

A multitude of curse words swirled through Henry's brain as it panicked. He didn't need his mom here. Not now. Killian was too close and he was certain she'd already figured out that he'd aided Killian's escape. If she was pissed off with him earlier, she'd be on the verge of a full rampage by now and Henry was smart enough to realize that both his and Killian's lives could be on the line.

"I wish you hadn't called her," Henry mumbled as he shook his head, slowly turning around to face Gideon who he discovered was standing across the street, a few doors down from Granny's. His mother was only two blocks away so Henry knew he had just seconds to think up a plan. "So, are you going to arrest me?" he challenged the would-be deputy. "Or are you just jealous that I was visiting with my grandfather? You know, your father?"

"I should arrest you, you insolent little brat, but I promised your mother that I wouldn't harm you. Personally, I think she should just lock you up, maybe in the asylum where they can properly treat your insanity."

"I'm not insane! I'm one of the few people around here who actually knows exactly what is going on and yes, I know what the Black Fairy is planning to do! If I were you, I'd be getting worried because she doesn't care what happens to you. She only cares about herself! She's going to destroy everything – even you!"

"You have such an overactive imagination, Henry. You read too many fairytales…," Gideon sneered and Henry feared that maybe his biological uncle had simply spent too much time under the Black Fairy's influence to be redeemable. He might just be as delusional as his fairy grandmother.

"Don't say I didn't warn you," Henry spat back defiantly.

"Didn't warn him of what?" Emma demanded as she stomped fervently towards her son, brow furrowed deeply and radiating pure fury. "Something I should know too?"

"Mom…," Henry stammered, searching for words that wouldn't further aggravate the already tense situation. "You don't know what you're doing…"

"I don't know what I'm doing?" Emma repeated as her son tried to avoid making eye contact with her. "I have a son who believes that fairytales are real, that a now-escaped murderer is really my husband and that his dead grandparents are still alive out there somewhere, but _I_ don't know what _I'm_ doing? Henry, this has to stop and if that means I need to put you back in that hospital, I will!"

"I'm not crazy, Mom!" Henry shouted, raising his head with new-found conviction. "I'm the only one here right now who's actually seeing the reality of this curse. This isn't you, Mom! You are not some revenge-driven maniac. You're the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming. You're the product of True Love – the Savior, but right now, your head is all clouded with fake memories because of a curse. Yesterday was your wedding day and you were so happy – until Fiona cast her curse on the town. She trying to destroy True Love, Mom, and if you keep going down this path, you're going to help her do it."

"Henry, stop…" Emma insisted, but the teenager ignored her.

"No, Mom, I can't. You need to hear this – all of this! Grandma and Grandpa aren't dead, they're trapped in another realm by Fiona's magic. We can find a way to break this curse, to bring them back, but first, you have to believe me."

"Seems as though your boy is losing what little mind he had left," Gideon quipped from behind Emma, but she quickly spun around to face the deputy.

"This is between me and my son, deputy. Perhaps you should get back to work searching for an escaped prisoner and allow me to parent my child?"

"Yes, Sheriff," Gideon replied, shrinking back a few feet from Emma and stepping up onto the curb, taken aback by her lashing, but not yet prepared to actually leave the area.

As her deputy faded into the background, Emma returned her attention to her son. "I don't know what has gotten into your head today, Henry, but right now, you are going to head straight to the station and wait in my office or I swear, I will lock you in the holding cell myself!"

"I'm not going anywhere," Henry defied her orders yet again. He allowed the cape to fall to the sidewalk as he reached for his storybook. "Not until you actually look at this. Not until you hear me out…please…" He opened the book to an illustration that should have brought back fond memories – the image of Emma in a ruby red gown, masquerading as Princess Leia at King Midas' ball alongside her dashing Prince Charles. At least that was what the image had once vividly depicted. Most of the color was now gone, leaving only muted blotches and just enough linear definition to recognize the faces of the couple pictured. "This is you and Killian at King Midas' royal ball. It's always been one of your favorite illustrations in the book because it was one of your first images that made it into the book. And because it probably marked the moment you really decided you were falling in love. This picture and all of the others in the book are vanishing as you're unknowingly weakening True Love. If they completely disappear, so will the stories and then, so will all of us."

"Henry, this is pure madness. It's just a story book. It's not real."

"It is real! It's our family's story and that family includes Killian Jones. If you keep hurting him, you're letting Fiona defeat you."

Emma exhaled an exasperated sigh. "Killian Jones isn't a part of our family! He's the one who took it from us!"

"No, he didn't. That was Fiona and we can still stop her and bring our family back. You have to believe that Killian is your True Love…"

"Emma, Love, what the lad is saying is true…" a weary voice spoke up from behind Henry. The boy's head snapped around to get a glimpse of a figure behind him, seeing Killian hobbling out of the alley. Henry didn't even need to see the action to know that she immediately reached for her service weapon.

"Mom, no!" Henry cried, placing his own body directly between his mother and the husband she didn't remember. "I won't let you hurt him anymore."

"That man is a dangerous fugitive!" Emma insisted, trying to find a clear line of sight to her escaped prisoner. "Step out of the way so I can take him back into custody!"

Henry refused to budge from his position. "No. I'm not moving. If you want to get to Killian, you'll have to go through me."

"Henry… it's alright, lad," Killian assured him as Henry's bloodstained jacket slipped from his shoulders while he raised his hand in surrender. "Please, you've risked too much already…"

"I can't do that, Killian," Henry insisted. "I can't let them take you. They'll kill you, and then we're all doomed."

Killian didn't want the boy to be caught in the middle of this, but Henry was every bit as stubborn as his mother. "I have faith that you'll find a way to free your family, Henry."

"I'm not moving." Henry remained steadfast in his stance. "I won't let you hurt him, Mom." He took a step backward, continuing to use his own body to shield Killian.

"I am not going to ask you again, young man," Emma growled, livid that her own son would dare defy her and side with the enemy. "Step away from my prisoner, Henry. That's an order!" Henry shook his head vigorously as he stared into his mother's irate eyes, so darkened with rage that they appeared nearly black as night. He had to believe that the mom he knew, the real Emma Swan, was still in there somewhere.

But while mother and son were focusing so intently on each other, they both failed to notice Gideon, who had moved into the center of the street, the sights of his raised weapon trained directly onto the teenager standing in the way of his quarry. Gideon's actions hadn't gone entirely unnoticed though as Killian lifted his head in time to see the deputy's aggressive stance, instinctively realizing that Gideon had no intention of waiting for Henry to move – he was going to take the boy out of the equation himself.

"Henry, look out!" Killian shouted as he lunged forward to shove the boy out of the line of fire. Henry's knees struck the sidewalk just as Gideon's shot rang out, the storybook and his unzipped backpack both knocked from his grasp with the impact. A brilliant flash of bright light appeared before his eyes as he fought through the momentary disorientation as he heard the book and all of the contents of his pack striking the unyielding concrete with repeated dull thuds. When his senses returned, he scrambled to locate the snow globe, finding it on the sidewalk next to the wide-open book, cracked and leaking both liquid and plastic snow – both objects resting inches from the fallen form of his stepfather.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies for taking a little longer to get this next chapter completed. Between a hectic week and a frustrating battle with myself trying to word portions of this chapter, I fell a bit behind. This chapter picks up immediately after the cliffhanger so there's no break in the action (or the angst...)

Everything was in chaos.

Henry couldn't think of a better word to describe the scene unfolding in the center of Storybrooke but he knew he needed to shake off the initial shock and assess the fallout from the events he'd just witnessed. Still on his hands and knees, he watched as Granny and several of her startled patrons spilled out of the diner, drawn out by the pop of a gunshot and what had looked like a flash of lightning on a clear, sunny day. A single motorist driving down Main Street at the wrong time was forced to pull to the curb as the town's deputy was suddenly airborne, flung over the roadway by some unseen force.

"What the hell just happened?" a stunned Emma demanded as she stood in the street, attention torn between the traitorous deputy she'd just somehow launched with a burst of light that flew from the palm of her hand and the wounded prisoner who'd just shoved her son to safety, willingly taking the bullet Gideon had seemingly intended for her boy. The whole scene was surreal and despite all of the gawking onlookers, Emma felt strangely alone.

Henry knew Gideon's motivation - probably better than Gideon himself did. He was still deeply brainwashed by Fiona, a pawn in the Black Fairy's scheme to take down the Savior. Emma's cursed recollection was gradually weakening her true self, rapidly amplifying the rage that she'd been directing toward her husband and son. Henry stood in the way of Emma killing her True Love, which Gideon believed to mean that Henry had to be removed from further interference. Emma's response was perfectly natural – defending her child - but her emotions were torn as the deputy she'd trusted had attempted to harm her son while the murderer she loathed had just saved Henry's life. It didn't make sense and her head ached just thinking about it. Nothing made sense and Henry hoped that this would be the crack in the phony veneer Fiona had put in place that would help his mother remember.

First though, he needed to save Killian. Henry remembered that everything had happened so fast. Killian had shouted for him to watch out and shoved him to the ground. Falling, Henry had caught a glimpse of Gideon raising his service weapon and firing. As the bullet struck Killian in the chest, he'd dropped to the sidewalk, hand clutching the wound. Emma hadn't even seen Killian get shot as she'd instinctively spun at Killian's warning to lash out at Gideon, throwing the deputy to the opposite side of the street with a burst of magic, an act that had left her dumbfounded and instantly questioning reality as she knew it.

The reality that Henry knew though was that the blasted fairy was winning because everything he'd been trying desperately to save was falling apart.

Killian had initially fallen onto his right side, rolling to his back in agony as he gasped for breath. Henry could see that he was trying futilely to hold back the flow of blood that oozed between his fingers. Had the bullet struck anything vital? "Killian! Hang on!" Henry cried as he scrambled to reach his stepfather, but before he reached Killian's side, his eyes were drawn to the puddle of glittery water and shiny flecks of plastic snow surrounding the cracked snow globe that was inching towards the open storybook. Henry crawled past the book, still displaying the illustration of the ball though the image was now entirely devoid of colo. He tried not to look at the damaged snow globe because he didn't know what the repercussions would be from breaking it. He was certain though that none of them would have a chance to survive this curse should Killian die.

Henry had to push aside any fear of retaliation from his mother as he tried to help Killian whose arm was outstretched toward the boy, motioning him away. Henry chose to ignore the gesture, taking ahold of his stepfather's blood-slickened fingers between his own, squeezing as tightly as he could. Killian's body was wrought with tremors, jaw clenching as he swallowed down gulps of precious oxygen.

"Henry…go…" Killian urged as the boy hovered above him. He didn't want or need the boy to be caught in the middle any longer.

"Go? No way. I'm not leaving you – especially not now!" Henry let go of Killian's hand which fell limply at his side, splashing into the remnants of the snow globe. Trying to get a better look at the wound, Henry rapidly unbuttoned the borrowed shirt but there was so much blood. Considering all of his prior injuries, Killian likely had little to spare. "You shouldn't have done that… You can't die, Killian…"

"'Couldn't let Gideon hurt you…" Killian replied, his voice scarcely more than a raspy whisper. His breathing was stuttered as he fought against the tempting pull of blissful nothingness.

"But you're Mom's True Love! We can't let Fiona win!"

"You were her first True Love… Had to save you…" Killian was swiftly losing his battle with consciousness, eyelids drooping heavier and heavier until they closed.

"Killian?" Henry didn't know what to do. "Please, stay with me…" He pressed both of his hands firmly over the wound, trying desperately to stem the flow of blood, but it seemed almost in vain.

"Henry, get away from him," he heard his mother's voice order, but he refused to move. "Get over here!"

"Not until someone calls an ambulance," Henry insisted. "I'm not going to let him die!"

"What the devil is going on out here?" came the booming voice of an irritated Mr. Gold as he stepped out of his pawn shop to take in the bizarre scene. In front of his business, he spied his grandson leaning over the fallen pirate who appeared to be bleeding profusely. Sheriff Emma Swan stood in the middle of the street, confusion and a hint of fear etched into her features and his son, Gideon, was sprawled across the opposite curb, appearing to be semi-conscious but not really moving much.

"I wish I knew," Emma sighed. "Maybe someone can enlighten me?"

"Gideon tried to shoot me but Killian pushed me out of the way and got hit instead!" Henry anxiously explained, raising his head to beseech his grandfather's aid with pleading eyes. "Killian's dying… Can you do something to save him? You know what will happen if he dies…"

"I'm no doctor and remember - no magic," Rumple reminded his grandson. "Afraid we'll have to wait for Dr. Whale, but perhaps in the meantime, someone could illuminate me as to what happened to my son?"

"I don't really know," Emma stammered, her prior bravado beginning to sputter. "Gideon fired his weapon at my son and my instincts kicked in. I spun around and… and lightning bolts flew out of my fingertips! Gideon flew across the street and… I don't know… What the hell was that? What did I do?"

"It would appear that you found a flash of magic within you, Miss Swan… or is it Mrs. Jones now?" Rumple gave her a decidedly reptilian grin as he brushed past her to make his way over to his son.

"I didn't kill him, did I?" Emma wondered, mind still clouded with questions she wasn't finding answers for and wary of this power she'd wielded without knowing she possessed.

"Gideon will be fine," Rumple responded, without looking in her direction. "He's merely stunned, but you had best hope that he didn't kill the pirate. Now, you should deal with that situation and let me deal with my son."

"Jones – he saved my son's life… Why would the man who murdered my parents rescue my son? He didn't have to do it… he could have escaped…" Emma continued to vocalize her confusion as the sound of a distant siren filled her ears. Seemed that someone had been proactive enough to call for paramedics.

"Perhaps things aren't quite as they may seem," was Rumple's last cryptic statement before he crouched next to Gideon, ready to help the young deputy sit up as he gradually regained his senses.

Henry could also hear the shrill, yet still far away sound of the ambulance, fearful the medics might not reach them in time. He couldn't believe how casual Rumplestiltskin was acting. Was the Dark One really so callous that he'd allow his own mother to defeat him? Did it not matter to him that the Savior's True Love was dying and the storybook was practically a bound volume of blank pages? The curse would soon take everything and it didn't seem to matter.

Emma tucked her own weapon back into the holster at the small of her back as she fought to wrap her brain around the insanity she was witnessing. Hours ago, she'd accused her son of losing his mind and now, she was convinced she'd lost her own grasp of reality. Her trusted deputy had just tried to shoot her son and a man she despised had just shoved Henry out of harm's way and took that bullet himself. From the tears welling in Henry's eyes, it was obvious that he had genuine emotions for the unconscious man who was bleeding out on the street, a man who should be a complete stranger to the teenager.

_Perhaps_   _things_   _aren't_   _as_   _they_   _seem_.

Gold's words echoed inside her head as she waged a battle with her conflicting emotions. Nothing seemed to make sense to her. Nothing seemed right to her anymore and she couldn't understand why.

_And this questionable reality was about to become far more confusing_.

In the midst off all of the chaos, a small but significant detail had gone unnoticed by all. Blood droplets trickling from Killian's hand were dribbling into the spilled water from the damaged snow globe, swirling with the bits of glitter and faux snowflakes as the crimson-tinted mixture flowed towards the fallen storybook. As it reached the outer binding, instead of simply dampening the cover, the book seemed to absorb the liquid, drawing the reddish water into the pages themselves. A damp blob flowed into the outline of Emma's ball gown, gradually filling in the blank void between the lines as though it were being painted by an invisible artist. The illustration began to flush with intensifying ruby red hues until the original color of the dress was fully restored.

Color began to bleed across the lines, returning the blush to Emma's illustrated facial features while the woodsy browns of Killian's coat became increasingly vivid. The book itself began to glow with a pale golden light, not too dissimilar from the color displayed in the manifestation of Emma's magic. The emanating light drew no attention, but when the book suddenly snapped itself closed, it caught Henry by surprise. He thought for a moment that perhaps a gust of wind had blown it closed, yet the tree branches around him were still. Maybe Killian had moved and bumped it, yet his stepfather's hand lay where it had landed. Had the book just slammed itself shut? Henry certainly hadn't been prepared for that, nor did he expect what happened next.

The responding ambulance was at last in view as it came speeding down Main St. with lights flashing and siren wailing when the driver was forced to screech to a halt and rapidly veer to the left to avoid striking a man who'd appeared out of nowhere - directly in the vehicle's path. The ambulance pulled to the opposite curb as the man in the black tuxedo they'd nearly struck spun around in attempt to gain his bearings. An already befuddled Emma's jaw fell agape as she recognized the face of the figure who'd materialized in the middle of the street.

"Dad?" she asked incredulously as she stared at her equally bewildered father. Mere seconds after David's appearance, Snow White suddenly appeared to David's right, still attired in the pink and black satin dress she'd been wearing at the wedding ceremony. "Mom?" Emma swore she was seeing ghosts – until those ghosts ran towards her and threw their very-real arms around her in embrace. "How are you here?" she questioned her seemingly returned-from-the-dead parents.

"I don't really know," David replied. "I remember we were all celebrating and dancing after your wedding when those dark clouds overtook us. Next thing I know, I'm standing in the middle of the street and nearly get run over by an ambulance! What the hell is going on around here?"

"All these people out here…," Snow began, glancing around at the gathered crowd. "But where's everyone else?" Her eyes caught the conflicted gaze of her grandson as he looked forlornly at her. "Henry? What's wrong?"

"I think Killian just broke the Black Fairy's curse," Henry choked out in a cracking voice, nearly in tears as he realized what the price of breaking this curse may have been. "He saved me and it broke the curse… An act of True Love…"

His grandparents didn't seem to catch on to what the teenager meant. "What are you talking about, Henry?" David queried. "What happened?" David could see that there was someone laying on the sidewalk next to Henry but seeing nothing familiar to identify that person, he didn't immediately make the connection. He started to cross the street to reach the boy just as Regina and Zelena magically appeared just behind Henry. With their better vantage point, their eyes were instantly drawn down to the sight of the teenager kneeling beside the seemingly lifeless body of Killian Jones, the boy still frantically trying to keep pressure on a wound that was bleeding profusely. Without context to what had happened prior to their release from Fiona's snow globe prison, none of Henry's newly returned family could understand why Killian was wearing a blood-drenched guard's uniform or why his shoes were missing. Hell, they couldn't understand what had occurred that left Killian near death on the sidewalk and Emma not rushing to his side.

"Henry, what happened?" Regina exclaimed as she crouched beside her son. "How did Hook break Fiona's curse and why isn't Emma over here healing him?"

"It's going to be a long story, Mom, but basically there's no magic. Fiona used up all of Storybrooke's magic to cast the curse and she altered Mom's memories so she doesn't think Killian is her husband." Regina made an attempt to conjure a fireball to confirm the veracity of Henry's statement, but she was troubled by Henry's mention of altered memories.

"Don't tell me Emma shot him?" Regina quipped sarcastically, not aware that had Henry not stepped in front of Killian, Emma very likely would have shot him herself.

"No, Gideon did, but there's a lot more you don't know…" Henry began before being interrupted by David's booming voice.

"Everybody get out of the street! Let's get those paramedics over here on the double!" David barked orders as he lowered himself to his knees, pressing his index and middle fingers against the side of Killian's neck, elated when he felt a faint pulsation against his fingertips. "He's alive! He's got a pulse!" David shouted to the pair of EMTs as they prepped a gurney and gathered their necessary equipment before shoving through the parting crowd to reach their patient.

David placed a reassuring arm around his grandson's shoulders as he gently drew the boy away from his unconscious stepfather so the paramedics could take over, throwing an inquisitive glance towards Regina at the absurdity of the scene they'd just been dropped into. Regina shrugged, sensing that David wanted to ask the same questions that were nagging at her. Why was it that only Henry was attending to the wounded Killian and why was Emma so distant? If the curse was broken, Emma's memory should have returned yet she still appeared to be torn and David sensed there was something else. Regret maybe? Or perhaps guilt? They really needed to know what had occurred during the time they couldn't recall.

As the medics went to work, rapidly getting an IV started and placing a clear plastic mask over Killian's nose and mouth to get additional oxygen flowing into his compromised system, the others stood and stepped to the side. David left Henry in Regina's care as he stepped out into the street again some answers from his daughter. They needed to try to make some sense of what they were witnessing if they were going to help remedy this.

"Henry, you said that Emma didn't remember Killian was her husband," Regina pressed the teen for additional information. She didn't know what the obviously traumatized boy would divulge, but she needed to try. "Why not?"

"Fiona made her think Killian had murdered her parents years ago. There was so much hatred…" Henry replied, eyes still focused on his fallen stepfather as paramedics cut away bloody clothing to assess all of the wounds.

"But you remembered who he was?" Regina asked for clarification.

"The curse didn't affect my memories. I overheard what was happening to him and I had to help him escape from the dungeon where they were holding and torturing him."

"What dungeon?" Regina questioned, almost wanting to add  _what_   _torture_?

"Those prison cells under the Town Hall," Henry responded, keeping his gaze averted from his mother as he assumed she'd immediately determine how he'd accomplished the prison break.

"My keys?" Regina asked knowingly to which her son nodded his reply. "Ah… we'll discuss this more later, but for now – good for you. You did the right thing." But now she turned her attention to the only other person present who appeared to have come through this ordeal relatively unscathed – Rumplestiltskin. "Just what role did you play in this fiasco, Gold?" she demanded as she stormed across the street to confront the innocence-feigning Dark One.

"I assure you, I played no role in today's events," Rumple insisted. "This was all the Black Fairy's handiwork and I'm afraid she did quite a number on Ms. Swan's head."

"You're never  _not_   _involved_ ," David interrupted, having overheard both the question and the answer. "Seriously – What were you expecting to get out of this?"

"My mother promised that if I allowed her curse to proceed unabated, she'd restore Gideon's innocence, but that was before Henry illuminated me to her real plan. I now know that will never happen if the pirate dies. There will never be a way for his innocence to be returned if he takes a life."

"And with no magic, you can't magically heal Hook's wounds to protect your son," Regina stated.

"And so you see my quandary," Rumple said with a smirk. "As you've discovered, Storybrooke's magic has waned, although somehow Ms. Swan managed to summon enough to launch my son across Main St."

"Good for her," Regina deadpanned, certainly not a fan of Gideon's antics as the Black Fairy's sidekick. "So then, Emma – what the hell is going on with you?" Might as well try to get a response right from the source.

"I… I did this…" Emma stammered, her knees nearly buckling with the weight of the pain she'd caused. Her mother's comforting arms managed to keep her upright but Emma knew Snow could feel the tension building within her. "This is all my fault…"

"Emma, what did you do?" Snow asked innocently, although fearing the answer.

"I nearly killed him," Emma stated bluntly. "My head was so full of rage and hatred that I tortured and nearly killed my own husband… He'll never forgive me for this…"

"This was the Black Fairy's fault, not yours," Snow insisted. "You're not to blame and I'm sure Killian knows that."

"Yeah, I'm sure that's what he was thinking as I beat him with a baton or stabbed him with his own hook... He won't forgive me this time," Emma sobbed, eyes downcast as she tried not to stare at her husband's limp form being lifted onto the gurney for transport to the hospital. "I may have already killed him long before Gideon fired that bullet."

"You should go with him," Snow insisted. "Be at his side when he wakes."

All Emma wanted to do was run. She didn't want to be here explaining herself to her parents. Curse or no curse, she'd committed grievous crimes against the man she loved. Why would he ever want to see her again after this? "He won't want to see me," she told her mother, unable to come to terms with the horrors she'd committed on this day as everything replayed in her mind. "I can't… I can't face him until I do something first…"

"What's that?"

Before Emma could answer, her father placed a hand upon her shoulder to make one last plea for her to accompany Killian to the hospital. "They're getting ready to take off. Killian's hanging on, but I think he needs you, Emma. Are you going to ride along?"

"No, Dad. You or Henry should go. I have to finish something…"

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure. I've got a fairy to fricassee," Emma said firmly, using her jacket sleeve to wipe away a stray tear from her cheek.

Rumple's ears perked at Emma's mention of his mother. He strolled casually towards the Sheriff with a self-righteous grin plastered on his face. "Ms. Swan, if you are going to confront my mother, there's something you're going to need first…"

"And what's that?" Emma demanded, unsure of whether to trust the scheming little imp, especially since she was about to challenge his mother.

"Follow me," he instructed without further explanation, walking back towards his shop and pausing to see if she was following before he opened the door. "Are you coming?"

"Yeah, yeah… I'm coming," Emma replied as she turned to her anxious parents, tear tracks staining her cheeks as she struggled to pull herself together. "Take care of Killian for me, please?"

"Of course," Snow replied, giving her daughter one more reassuring hug before Emma followed Rumplestiltskin into the pawn shop. Snow White was left pondering how the Black Fairy had managed to inflict so much damage in a single day and trying not to think about what fate might hold for all of them should Killian succumb to his wounds.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shorter update this week which will set up the two battles - one to defeat the Black Fairy and the other to save Killian’s life. Lots of angst coming at you in this installment so be prepared...

Rumplestiltskin drew aside the heavy brocade drapery, gesturing for Emma to enter the private, back room of his shop. She glanced around warily before proceeding through the doorway with the Dark One following close behind.

"If you're going to kill a fairy, you'll need the proper tools," he advised as he continued across the eclectically decorated room to a tall wooden cabinet that featured ornately carved door panels. He tugged open the right-hand door to reveal a variety of swords and spears concealed within and selected one in particular. Emma's eyes widened as he withdrew the blade and held it out at arm's length towards her. It was the same blade that had been wielded by the hooded figure from her nightmare. The same weapon that Gideon had attempted to use against her a few days ago in a battle, one he'd lost when his sword broke into multiple pieces and clattered to the pavement. And yet, here it was, held aloft right before her eyes and it was once again fully intact, in all its razor sharp glory.

"That's the sword from my dream," Emma stammered. "The one that's supposedly fated to kill me… Gideon tried to use it against me, but it shattered during our fight. How do you have it and how the hell is it in one piece?"

"I've had this lovely weapon all along," Rumple confessed, grinning cheerfully and at the same time, menacingly. "Do you honestly think I would allow Gideon to get his hands on the only weapon in Storybrooke that can kill a fairy? The one he futilely used to battle you was merely a replica, which is why it broke. This one is plated in the finest silver available in all of the realms and coated with my specially blended potion that makes it fatal to all fairies."

"You definitely have a special distaste for fairies, don't you?" Emma quipped sarcastically as Rumple passes the weapon to her hand.

"And having met my mother, you do understand why I find the little beasts so detestable, don't you?" he echoed her query.

"So, this sword can kill Fiona?" Emma pressed, ignoring his mocking tone.

"That is precisely what the blade was forged to do. It's imbued with the Blue Fairy's magic and even if your strike doesn't mortally wound my mother, a single drop of her blood against the blade will send her on a one-way trip back to her own miserable realm."

"One way, huh? You're sure about that?"

"The potion I developed contains a blood seal which ensures that she won't ever be able to cross into this realm - or any other - again."

"Any idea where I might find her?"

"Wherever she can find objects to help restore power to her dark magic. Be assured, she knows her curse has been broken – at least partially."

"Regina sealed off her vault before the curse so that would only leave the fairy dust mines or maybe the clock tower as possibilities. Every villain in this town seems to have a thing for that damned tower…"

"Sounds like a logical place to start then."

"You're absolutely sure you don't know where she's hiding?" Emma asked skeptically. Rumplestiltskin might despise fairies but Fiona was still his mother.

"I assure you, I would divulge her location if I knew. I'd like to be rid of her as much as you would."

"Oh, you have no idea…" Emma disagreed as she stared at her own reflection on the polished flat of the blade, not entirely pleased with the image she was seeing of herself. Her gut festered with guilt over what Fiona had goaded her into doing to Killian. Her heart was still burning with hatred, but it had found a different enemy than it sought earlier today - now focused solely on the treacherous Black Fairy. "This ends tonight," was Emma's last statement to Rumple before exiting back to Main Street with the sword clutched tightly in her grip. She gave a passing glance towards her family, trying to remain focused as she caught sight of the blood pooled on the cement. She had to make it up to him before she could face him she told herself as she turned her back and walked the other way.

While Emma had been preoccupied by Rumple arming her with the weapon she'd need to confront the Black Fairy, David and Regina sought to diminish the crowd of onlookers and get them out of the street. Regina ushered patrons back into the diner and shops while David handcuffed Gideon, keeping careful watch over the would-be deputy until Zelena returned from the vault with the anti-magic cuff. The general lack of magic in Storybrooke may have temporarily neutered Gideon's powers, but no one wanted to take any chances.

David was eager to wrap things up here on the street and return the town to some semblance of normalcy so he could focus on his extended family. With Emma refusing to accompany Killian to the hospital, David had sent Henry in her place so that his new son-in-law wouldn't be alone. Her reasons were her own and he didn't quite understand all that had happened, but David hadn't argued with his daughter. The team of paramedics also hadn't argued at the teenager riding along in the ambulance even though it was a tad unorthodox. Neither dared question a Prince.

David watched the ambulance pull away just before Emma stepped out of the pawn shop, his heart aching for her as he saw her eyes drift to the bloodstained concrete. She didn't even look up at him as he watched her shift into full Savior mode. She had business to finish and David hoped that once she was done, she'd come talk to them and that she'd go to her husband's side. But that was entirely up to her. He knew better than to push but now, all they could do was wait and he was getting quite impatient with that.

Beside David, Gideon sat sullenly on the curb with his hands restrained behind his back. He seemed to sense that he and his grandmother had been defeated as he'd made no attempt to fight back or flee. David found himself a bit concerned that Gideon might be a bit too passive but Regina didn't share his opinion.

"Are you sure you can handle Gold Junior over here?" David asked Regina as she directed the last of the stragglers towards Granny's courtyard before making her way back to where David stood.

"He won't be able to put up much of a fight without his magic," Regina dismissed his worry. "Once Zelena gets back, we'll slap that cuff on his wrist before we toss him into the holding cell. If necessary, I'm sure Leroy would be all too happy to help us march Junior here to the Sheriff station."

"Good. Call him," David replied as he noticed his wife out of the corner of his eye. Snow had her phone to her ear, smiling she spoke excitedly to someone. "At least it appears that Snow was able to reach the sitter…"

"And she's smiling so everything must be alright there," Regina added, still seeing the deep furrows of frustration across David's forehead. "Don't worry about this," she insisted. "Go be with your family. We'll be fine here. I'll drag Gold back out here to deal with his son if I need to."

"Okay," David responded with a heavy sigh. "We'd better get over there. I'm sure Henry could use the relief. I can't begin to imagine what he's been through."

"He's a resourceful kid," Regina commented. "Hook may have broken the curse, but what Henry did just might have saved us all. I don't know what Fiona had planned for us, but the fact that she kept us all separated says a lot."

David nodded in agreement before turning to face his wife as she disconnected her call. "Everything okay at home?"

"Oh, yes," Snow replied. "The sitter was a little confused when the curse broke, as we all were, but everything is fine. I explained what happened, without going into too much detail, and told her we might need a few more hours. She was very understanding, but we'll probably have to double what we're paying her."

"Most likely," David chuckled, although only half-heartedly. "Are you sure you don't want me to drop you off to relieve the sitter?"

"No. We need to get over to the hospital until we get some news, and we need to be there to provide united support when Emma's ready to face this," Snow insisted.

"Send me an update as soon as you know anything," Regina implored. "I really don't want to follow yesterday's wedding with a funeral and I don't want Henry sitting there by himself for much longer."

"We'll send you a message as soon as we talk to Whale or someone else at the hospital," Snow stated.

"Who knows what repercussions there might be if Hook dies," Regina began as a new thought crossed her mind. "The curse may have been broken by his sacrifice to protect Henry, but there's no way to know if his death could trigger some sort of fail-safe built into Fiona's curse. Victor needs to do everything he can to keep that pirate alive!"

"Right now, I'm just hoping that Whale came through this curse remembering how to be a doctor," David grumbled. "Without magic, there aren't any other options available to us."

"I hadn't even thought of that…" Regina sighed. "Victor better have a very good memory."

* * *

On the other side of town, the ambulance carrying Killian Jones sped into the Emergency bay of Storybrooke General Hospital where Dr. Victor Whale and his team were waiting. The driver squelched the siren and flipped off the flashing lights as they approached, pulling directly in front of the automatic doors. An orderly stepped forward and tugged open the rear door of the vehicle, stepping aside as Henry and the attending paramedic hopped out. The teen was quick to get out of the way as the medical team pulled the gurney out, giving Dr. Whale a brief moment to assess his patient before rushing him inside the building.

"What have we got?" the doctor asked the paramedics as he stepped up to the raised gurney to get a better look. He'd been briefed about a gunshot victim but details were sketchy. What he saw before him was a pale, comatose man whose chest was plastered with blood-soaked gauze. A man who scarcely resembled the Captain Hook he knew. There was no trace of the cocky, larger than life pirate here, just a frail shell barely clinging to life.

"Gunshot wound to the right chest cavity, no visible exit wound. Compromised breath sounds on that side. Deep puncture wound to the left shoulder. Henry says he also has multiple lacerations across his back, although we didn't actually see the extent of them. His shirt was soaked with blood when we lifted him onto the stretcher. Heart rate and BP have both been erratic, BP is currently 88 over 60, but trending lower. We've pushed a unit of plasma with the saline drip but it wasn't nearly enough to replace what he's lost."

"What the hell has he been through?" Whale questioned with a quizzical raised brow. "I thought he just got married yesterday? Is his wife around here somewhere?"

"No, she wasn't there when we responded," the medic stated, which was a bit of a fib. "Henry's here representing the family until David and Mary Margaret get here. They're on the way and but the boy filled us in on what he knew."

"Alright then people – get two units of O negative stat!" Whale barked out orders to his staff. "Janet, make sure the OR is prepped and have the surgical team start scrubbing in. We need to see where the bullet is lodged. Get a portable X-ray unit brought to room 2 and when you get him in there, get these bloody clothes off of him. I've got a few questions for the kid and I'll be right in."

As the medical team rushed the still unconscious Killian into the Emergency ward, Whale turned his attention to Henry who stood just to the left of the entrance doors. The boy watched his stepfather be wheeled past him with a frightened, lost look in his reddened eyes. "Henry, are you alright?" he asked the forlorn teenager. "Your family is on the way, correct?"

"Uh, yeah… Grandpa said he'd be right behind us," Henry replied sheepishly. "Is Killian going to be alright?"

"I'll do my best, but where's your mom? I have some questions for her."

"Mom went off to fight the Black Fairy. She caused all of this and Mom won't come here until she defeats her. I don't think she can face Killian. She thinks he won't forgive her…"

"For not coming to the hospital?" Whale wondered, thoroughly confused by the boy's statement.

"For nearly getting him killed. Most of Killian's injuries were her fault," Henry explained, although his words did little to make the befuddled doctor understand any better.

"Okay, Henry, I'll ask for clarification on that story later. Right now, I'll do everything I can to save his life. The last thing I need is to draw any more ire from your family. You can wait here with Cathy at the Admittance desk until your grandparents arrive." Henry nodded in acknowledgment as the doctor hurried through the automated doors and vanished down a corridor to the left.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Emma’s off to battle the Black Fairy while an unconscious Killian battles for his life. That’s pretty much what this chapter focuses on but to change the pace a bit, I gave this chapter a bit of a different flow as much of the action is taking place simultaneously. Please excuse any inaccuracies with the OR scenes as it’s not my field of expertise so I gloss over a lot of the details. It’s more about setting up a dire situation than about being a medical drama.

Henry started to lose track of time as he sat behind the Admission desk waiting for his grandparents to arrive. He was cognizant enough to know that it hadn't been too long since he'd arrived with Killian, but he truly had no idea if he'd been waiting ten minutes or sixty. When he finally spotted the Sheriff cruiser pulling up to the Emergency entrance, his spirits lifted a little. At least, for the first time today, he would have someone he could rely on to get him through it all.

"Where's Killian Jones?" David demanded as the automated doors parted and he stomped purposefully into the Emergency ward with his wife following behind, shaking her head dismissively at her husband's overly forceful behavior.

"David, this is a hospital," Snow reminded him. "You really shouldn't be shouting."

"Mr. Jones was just taken up to the OR for surgery to remove the bullet," nurse Cathy advised the Prince. "It'll be a while before we know anything more, sir."

"Alright," David replied in a more muted tone as he got closer to the Admission desk. "Is my grandson around here somewhere?"

"I'm right here," Henry said as he popped up out of his chair so David could see him behind the tall desk. "What took you guys so long?"

"Sorry, Henry," Snow began. "David couldn't find the keys to the car."

"Hey, it's not my fault that Emma moved them!" David snapped back in mock offense. "I thought they'd still be in her desk drawer, not hanging on a peg on the break room wall." Snow gave her husband the _of_ _course_ , _dear_ look, but didn't question him further. "Anyway, how was Hook when you got here?"

"He was having a really hard time breathing," Henry told them. "They thought the bullet hit his right lung and they said he'd lost a lot of blood, but I already knew that. He'd been bleeding pretty heavily from those cuts on his back and the stab wound in his shoulder even before Gideon shot him."

"You think Gideon was really trying to shoot you?" David asked, although he was really wanting to learn more about Hook's other wounds and how they'd originated.

"I know he was. Well, I mean I'm pretty sure he was. I didn't actually see him because I was too busy arguing with Mom. I just heard Killian shout, he shoved me, and I hit the sidewalk as the gun went off."

David massaged his temples with his thumb and middle finger as he tried to figure it all out. What happened happened to his family in the hours he was missing and where the hell had they even gone to during that time? The Black Fairy had clearly done a number on everyone and whatever she'd done had certainly done serious damage to his daughter's psyche. He wouldn't feel an ounce of remorse for whatever Emma had planned for Fiona.

"What did Fiona do to all of you while we were gone? Hell, what did she do to us?" David questioned, his face wrought with frustration and confusion.

"She made Mom believe that Killian had murdered you and Grandma and filled Mom's head with so much hatred towards him because she was trying to destroy True Love. She wanted Mom to kill her own True Love so that she could undo all of the stories. She trapped the both of you, Mom, Aunt Zelena and probably a few other townspeople inside an enchanted snow globe that fell and broke when Killian pushed me out of the way… But the worst was the book. Everything in the book was fading away…"

"We were trapped in a snow globe?" David asked quizzically before Snow interrupted him.

"Oh, speaking of your book…" Snow jumped into the conversation with a hint of a smile on her lips. "We brought it back for you, along with your backpack. It was a little damp and I think I got all of the glass shards cleaned off of it. It's out in the car."

"Did you open the book? Are the stories still fading away?" Henry asked anxiously.

"I don't know," she replied. "I just scooped it up and cleaned it up for you. Didn't think to open it."

"Can we go get it while we're waiting? I need to see if it's coming back… to see if we broke the whole curse."

"Okay, come with me," David stated. "The car's right outside." Henry hurried toward the automated doors with David and Snow following right on their grandson's heels. Henry saw the backpack resting on the back seat of the cruiser and didn't waste a second retrieving it. He immediately yanked the book out of the pack and flipped through a few pages.

"It's still not all back," Henry announced, displaying one of the faded images for his grandparents. "See? Most of the color and portions of the text are still missing. I don't think the curse is completely broken."

"What if the curse hinges on Killian's survival?" Snow suggested. "If her goal was to destroy True Love, if he dies, Fiona's plan might still go through."

"Regina thought there could be repercussions," David reminded her. "I hope that pirate's survival instinct is still as strong as ever." David's ears perked up at a rumble of thunder off in the distance. "Guess we'd better get back inside to wait. Seems like a storm is rolling in."

"I hope that's really just a rainstorm…" Snow stated, her brow furrowed with worry.

* * *

Emma's instinct led her to Storybrooke's infamous clock tower above the library where she found Fiona eagerly awaiting her opponent on the catwalk atop the spiraling staircase. The Black Fairy was no longer attired in the tailored business suit she'd been sporting earlier but had donned her feathery, raven black gown, accessorized with a shiny long sword. It wasn't exactly an outfit that Emma would have chosen for a sword fight, but she wasn't certain of Fiona's level of experience in non-magical battle.

"Certainly took you long enough, Savior," the Black Fairy greeted her sarcastically. "I didn't expect you'd keep me waiting after the curse broke."

"Sorry. Had to stop and pick up the proper armaments first," Emma responded flatly as she reached the top of the stairs, internally cringing at the echo of her footsteps throughout the tower. She brandished the sword Rumple had provided which elicited a haughty laugh from Fiona.

"So, you've been chatting with my worthless son, I see," Fiona chuckled. You sure you want to wage the battle using the weapon your visions revealed was fated to kill you?"

"As long as you're on the receiving end, I'm just fine with it. If I'm meant to die, you had better believe that I'm taking you with me."

"You seem a little testy, Emma," the fairy grinned as she raised her sword. "Something else on your mind?"

"I'm quite sure you know what's on my mind – and that's precisely why I'm here to kill you!" Emma growled. "Now, since you don't have any magic to fight me, you think your skill with a sword is good enough? Or are you afraid to fight me without your powers?"

"Oh, I've some practice with a sword…" Fiona sneered as she surged forward, their blades crashing together. Emma really wasn't surprised that Fiona would have some sword fighting experience. After all, it seemed as though everyone from the Enchanted Forest had training with some sort of weapon. Fiona had probably been the one who'd instructed Gideon because their moves were similar. Of course, Fiona was right about one thing – Emma was fighting distracted.

And she became further distracted when she saw a flash of lightning illuminating the darkening skies outside of the tower. It had been clear a few minutes ago when she'd marched down Main Street to face off with Fiona, so what had changed? The fairy took note of the startled expression on her opponent's face and used it to her advantage, catching Emma off-guard as she scored a blow to her left shoulder, knocking Emma to the grated metal floor of the catwalk.

"What's the matter, Emma? Don't like the weather?" Fiona taunted her as Emma scrambled to get back on her feet.

"You don't have this kind of magic right now…" Emma stammered, shaking her head in disbelief. "What the hell is going on?"

"Did you honestly think that getting your memories and your family back from my little prison meant that the curse was broken?" Fiona lowered her sword momentarily as she laughed maniacally, yet she was very much in control. "The heart of my curse has always been undoing True Love. That storm brewing outside means that your very own True Love is dying. The moment his heart stops beating for good, this town and everyone in it will be swept away. It's not exactly what I had wanted - I would have preferred that you'd done it, but either way, I take all of the happy endings with me…"

"Well then, I guess you die first." Emma swung the heavy sword towards Fiona's midsection but the fairy was faster, easily fending off Emma's parry as the skies continued to grow blacker, illuminated only by the intermittent flashes of lightning.

"Time's growing short, Savior," Fiona gloated. "Do you really want to spend your last few minutes fighting with me instead of saying goodbye to your family?"

"Killian's a survivor. He'll pull through this and if I kill you, I can still save my family."

"Really? Prepared to bet your life on it?"

Emma set her jaw and scowled. This bitch was going down. She owed it to her family – and especially to her husband.

* * *

"There's the bullet," Dr. Whale announced from behind his mask. "It's definitely embedded into the rib just as the X-ray suggested. Let's get it out of there and see what we can do to repair the bone. Looks as though we'll probably need to pin it back together. Janet, can I get some suction over here? These little bleeders are making it difficult to see into the incision clearly." He used the point of his scalpel to indicate the spot where blood was pooling. He wanted to get this bullet removed quickly so the pirate wouldn't bleed to death on his operating room table. Jones' blood pressure was still dangerously low and Whale suspected that there might still be internal bleeding around the puncture wound to his patient's left shoulder, but the bullet wound definitely took precedence. His right lung had already collapsed from the trauma and Whale knew that a portion of the tissue probably couldn't be salvaged. That would have to be re-evaluated later though since this life-saving procedure was of the utmost importance.

With his forceps, Whale gripped the offending chunk of lead but just as he prepared to extract it from the surrounding bone, the bright lamp above the table flickered.

"What the hell?" the doctor exclaimed as he paused. " Did somebody just bump the lamp?"

"No, Doctor," came a chorus of replies just as the lamp flickered again – only this time, it wasn't the only device in the room that seemed to be malfunctioning. The monitor tracking the patient's vitals was suddenly registering wild fluctuations in the pattern of wavy lines and numbers and sounded its distress as a series of loud beeps and blips.

"Doctor, I don't know if he's going arrhythmic or if our equipment is going haywire…" the nurse in charge of monitoring vitals spoke up just as all of the lines went solid and crimson warning lights lit up the screen.

"Damnit Jones!" Whale growled. "You are not dying on me!" Not willing to rely solely on the potentially failing monitors, Whale dropped his tools onto a nearby tray and found a stethoscope to confirm for himself if his patient's heart had stopped. He tossed aside one of the mint green surgical drapes to get better access to his patient's chest and soon verified that he couldn't hear a heartbeat. "Get me the defibrillator paddles!" As the nurse prepped the machine, Whale pressed the heel of his palm into Jones' sternum to begin compressions, silently mouthing a prayer that whatever was causing the power fluctuations wouldn't affect the defibrillator before he had a chance to shock the pirate's heart back into rhythm.

"Fully charged now, Doctor," the nurse stated as she carefully handed the defibrillator paddles to Whale one at a time.

"Okay, everybody clear!" he ordered, the team immediately making certain that they weren't in contact with either the patient or any part of the operating room table. Satisfied that it was safe to proceed, Whale touched the paddles to either side of his patient's chest, the jolt sending electricity surging through Jones' unresponsive body. The monitor reflected a brief flash of activity before it returned to a flat line. "Charge again!" Whale snapped impatiently at the nurse while she reset the equipment for a second attempt.

As Whale repeated the process, the room was plunged into darkness for a few precious seconds until the emergency generators kicked in. The doctor cursed under his breath at the unfortunate timing of whatever was causing these power fluctuations. There was little time to waste if he was going to have even a chance to get Jones' heart beating again. He counted nearly thirty seconds before the monitors powered back on with the same warnings flashing on the screen.

"It's going to be a few more seconds before the defibrillator is ready again," the nurse informed him as she tinkered with a series of buttons and dials to get the machine working again.

"Then somebody hold these while I start compressions again," Whale stated as he passed the paddles to another nurse. "We can't afford to waste time here so please - tell me when that damned thing is charged again!"

* * *

"It won't be long now," Fiona taunted as the blade of her sword clashed against Emma's once again. "Storybrooke's infrastructure is already failing. Can't you feel it?"

"I have had just about enough of you!" a disgusted Emma shouted as she determined it was time to try a new tactic. As Fiona shifted her stance to ward off Emma's strike, Emma suddenly changed direction, pulling back instead of advancing and stomping her boot onto the feathery hem of Fiona's gown. The move caught the fairy off balance and as soon as Emma saw the opening, she slammed the butt end of the sword into Fiona's rib cage, dropping the fairy to her knees as she became entangled in her own skirt. Fiona attempted to recover her bearings but this time, Emma moved faster, bringing the tip of her blade to the hollow of Fiona's throat.

"Go ahead, Savior – kill me!" Fiona hissed at her opponent. "Go ahead and do it, but it won't stop my curse. The storm is settling in all around us because your True Love is dead!"

Emma wanted more than anything at that moment to simply plunge the blade straight into the Black Fairy's jugular, but her trembling hands - and her own morality wouldn't allow her to do it.

"Hand too shaky to do this right?" the fairy mocked her. "Ah, the curse of being the Savior…"

Emma squeezed her eyes closed for a few seconds, keeping the blade pressed into Fiona's neck as she tried to push the visions and the tremors out of her head. "No – this is all just a trick! These visions, the tremors – it's all you! You've been getting into my head to make me fear this battle, but you know what – I'm not afraid of it anymore and I don't even have to kill you to win." With one swift, skillful swath, Emma drew the tip of the blade from left to right across Fiona's neck, leaving behind a shallow cut that was just deep enough to draw blood.

"That's all? Is that all you have?" Fiona scoffed.

"That's all I need," Emma replied with a triumphant grin as she watched a series of scarlet rivulets trickle down onto the flat of the sword's blade, triggering a reaction that the Black Fairy hadn't anticipated. The blade began to glow with an unearthly greenish light and Emma thought she'd explain what was happening. "You see, your son told me that he coated the blade with a special potion that only required a drop of your blood to activate and now – now I get to send you back where you belong!"

Fiona's eyes widened as the glowing sword began to pull her toward it. "No… No, he couldn't have…" the fairy fumbled for words as she found herself being dragged into the magnetic field the sword was creating. " _No_!" She had time for one final exclamation as the sword seemed to suck her into itself, causing Emma to lose her grip on the handle which sent the sword clattering onto the grating. As it hit the floor, the glow faded away, allowing the blade to resume its normal appearance - and the only remaining trace of the Black Fairy was a fluttering of stray feathers.

A shaken, exhausted Emma leaned against the tower wall, unable to trust that her weakening knees would continue to support her. While Rumple has said that simply drawing blood from Fiona would send her back to her realm, it had still been quite disconcerting to see her opponent sucked into the blade like that. The Black Fairy was now trapped permanently in some distant dimension, but her cursed storm wasn't letting up. Now Emma feared that Fiona had been right – it might already be too late.

She needed to get to the hospital now.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies for a slight delay in getting the next chapter posted. Last week was a busy one for my family as my oldest daughter celebrated her birthday. (Still can't believe that I have an actual teenager in my home - yikes!)
> 
> I have one more chapter planned after this one so we're getting close to the end and then it will be time to focus putting some new ideas on paper!

It was over, but at the same time, it wasn't completely over.

The Black Fairy was gone, banished back to whatever private hell awaited her, yet the tempest she'd created with her curse still raged on outside the clock tower. Streetlights flashed on and off and a spray of brilliant sparks flew into the air when a transformer overloaded and exploded. Most of the nearby homes and businesses had already been plunged into darkness as the fury of the storm intensified.

Storybrooke General Hospital, where her husband lay dying, was three quarters of a mile from her current position and without magic to poof herself across town in a split-second, Emma knew she was going to need to brave the weather. She'd have to run as fast as her legs would allow, dodging hailstones and lightning to reach the Bug, but she didn't care. This supernatural storm enveloping the town was frightening, but it wasn't nearly as scary as the thought of losing Killian.

Before she departed the tower, Emma stooped to collect the sword borrowed from Rumplestiltskin that she'd just used to dispatch Fiona to some faraway realm, not willing to leave the weapon she'd come to fear laying around. Even if her visions hadn't been real, she didn't dare allow this sword to fall into the hands of the next villain of the week. As she reached for it, her fingers barely brushed the hilt when Emma noticed that it was glowing again, illuminated with a pale, icy blue light that seemed to be emanating from within the blade itself.

"What the hell?" she exclaimed, not that she was expecting anyone else to hear her. She extended her fingers towards the handle again, hopping backwards when the blade began to vibrate against the wrought iron grating. Emma found herself silently cursing Rumplestiltskin's name as the weapon vanished in a burst of bluish light and before she could brace herself against whatever was about to happen, she discovered she had company.

"Hello, Emma," her companion spoke up as Emma realized she was now face to face with the Blue Fairy in her fae form, sparkling wings fluttering as she hovered above the spot where the sword had previously been laying.

"How the…?" Emma stammered, unable to even form a complete sentence as she tried to piece together what she was witnessing. "Where did you…?"

"Come from?" Blue finished the question. "From the sword. Our combined powers were the only way to defeat the Black Fairy."

"Okay… Rumple said the sword was filled with your magic, but he didn't tell me that it was literally  _you_  in the sword…"

"It was the only way – my power to create the sword and yours to wield it. Fiona manipulated those visions you were experiencing, but Emma, you were always intended to wield the weapon that would defeat her."

"Alright then - we've defeated her," Emma began with an impatient tone in her voice, "So - how do we stop this? The storm – the curse? How do we bring Storybrooke's magic back?"

"Storybrooke's magic will return once the curse is fully broken, but I think you know what that entails."

"But how?" Emma sobbed. "Without magic, how can I heal him? Storybrooke is going to vanish and we're all going to die right along with Killian… What good did it do to defeat Fiona if we can't undo her curse?"

"I'm afraid there isn't enough magic here to heal Killian's body," the fairy confessed, watching with empathetic eyes as Emma's head bowed in defeat. "But, there may be enough left to keep his heart beating."

"Then for heaven's sake,  _do it_!" Emma implored her. "You have to save him!"

"I can only provide enough to restart a stopped heart as he's not yet crossed over, but that's all I can do. The rest of the battle will be up to Killian and until he is safe, the storm is going to continue."

" _Do it_!" Emma cried as tears streamed over her cheeks. "Please, do whatever you can to help him – to help all of us!"

The Blue Fairy nodded and floated closer to Emma. "Hold out your hands for me with your palms turned upward," Blue instructed and Emma obliged. The fairy dipped lower, dusting Emma's palms with glittering dust as she pressed her own tiny palms against Emma's skin, together creating an iridescent orb that materialized between them. "I'm bringing together the traces of your magic that lingered through Fiona's curse with a sprinkling of fairy dust. It will fill his heart, but there is always a chance that it may not be enough."

"It has to be enough," Emma stated, trying her best to remain positive as the orb lifted up from her hand then whooshed away, disappearing through the tower wall. " _It has to be enough_ ," she repeated, lifting her head to thank the Blue Fairy for her aid before realizing that she was gone, leaving Emma alone inside the tower once again.

Emma shook her head to clear the gathering cobwebs, worried that she may have just hallucinated the entire exchange, but a scant glance down to the tower floor where no trace of the sword remained confirmed the reality. And now she could only hope that the little orb Blue had conjured would be enough to bring Killian back from the edge. Too many lives depended on it.

* * *

"It's been four minutes, Doctor," the nurse advised, reminding everyone how long their patient had been without a pulse.

"I'm not ready to give up just yet," Dr. Whale responded, his arms already aching from the effort required to maintain consistent chest compressions. "Is that damned defibrillator charged back up yet?"

"A few more seconds, Doctor," the nurse responded. "These power fluctuations are making it slower to charge."

"Remind me when this is all over that I need to ask Regina for a bigger generator for this hospital," Whale mumbled, peering down at the ashen face of Killian Jones while concealing a scowl behind his surgical mask. "You're supposed to be the survivor, Hook… Is this really how you want to go out?"

"Doctor, the defibrillator is fully charged," the nurse announced at last, holding the paddles at the ready.

"Hand 'em here!" Whale ordered impatiently as he reached across Killian's torso to grab the handles. "Alright, Jones… Let's try this again, shall we?" With a shout to  _clear_ , he pressed the devices against the bare skin of Killian's chest and there was a collective hush in the operating room as all anxiously awaited the response to this attempt to jolt their patient back to life. In the midst of their collective breath-holding, not a single soul noticed the tiny, glistening orb that descended through the ceiling and dropped onto Killian's heart just as the surge of electricity surged through it.

Whale hesitated for a few seconds, paddles hovering in preparation for a second attempt as a series of faint blips lit up the monitor.

"We've got a rhythm again," a nurse said cheerfully as the pattern became more steady.

"Alright, people," Whale spoke up as he handed off the defibrillator paddles to another team member as the machine was powered down and wheeled out of the way. "Let's get back to work here. Somebody get me another forceps so I can yank that damned bullet out of him before he bleeds out all over my operating table." Whale wanted to breathe a sigh of relief, but they weren't done yet. There was still a lot of torn flesh to repair and no time to waste.

* * *

The increasing intensity of the thunderstorm outside the hospital walls wasn't lost on Emma and Killian's family either as they awaited news on one or both of the newlyweds' fates. David had his arm wrapped around a tense Snow White's shoulders as she leaned against him for support. The fluorescent lights here in the surgical waiting room had flickered a few times before going out completely nearly twenty minutes ago, replaced by two dimmer emergency spotlights when the generator kicked in moments after the outage. The atmosphere was only making the already stressful situation more nerve-wracking as everyone knew this was no run-of-the-mill storm. This was the Black Fairy's evil sorcery descending upon them as the curse threatened to overtake them.

Henry had been momentarily surprised when Regina arrived to join their vigil, having braved the formidable weather to show up dripping wet at the hospital just minutes before the power went out. As happy as he was to have one mother at his side again, Henry was still concerned about his other mom. She was the one he needed to have here the most but she was still out there alone somewhere, battling the Black Fairy in the prophesied final battle.

"Any news yet?" Regina asked as she entered the darkened waiting room that was occupied solely by Henry and the Charmings. "I wasn't sure if cell phone service was still working so I left Leroy in charge at the jail and headed over here."

"Phones still seem to be working okay," David told her. "We just spoke to the sitter who was going to keep the baby downstairs until the storm lets up. And no, we haven't heard anything yet."

"You do realize that this isn't a normal storm?" Regina asked them, almost sarcastically, not willing to believe they'd be this naive.

"It's the curse, isn't it?" Snow wondered.

"It's a veritable typhoon of dark magic," Regina replied, "and we're right in the middle of it. Hook must be clinging to life or we wouldn't even be having this conversation. If the pirate dies, that storm will wipe us all away. There won't be a trace of this town left."

"Even if Emma defeats Fiona in the final battle?" David queried.

"Afraid so, it seems. Every dark curse has a fail-safe built into it somewhere. It looks as though Fiona made sure hers would proceed no matter how Emma's True Love dies and no matter who wins the final battle." Regina's clarifications might have explained the situation better, but it probably only raised anxiety levels.

"I sure as hell hope that Whale can keep him alive," David sighed.

"If he doesn't, Storybrooke and everyone in it will be doomed. That's an awful lot of responsibility falling on Victor," the Queen stated bluntly, but no one could doubt she was right.

"So, all that Killian's sacrifice in saving Henry has accomplished so far was to free us from wherever Fiona sent us?" Snow questioned. "Do you think that it was so we'd all suffer more?"

"If she's anything like her manipulative, enterprising son – and I'm pretty sure she is – of course, she planned for us to suffer," Regina replied.

"Do you think Emma will be strong enough to defeat her?" David asked with a slight crack in his voice. "I mean, after all of those awful vision and premonitions of her death, and all of the awful things she was forced to do while cursed, if this is really the fabled final battle, is Emma going to be strong enough?"

"No one really knows," Regina began, slouching deeper into the vinyl armchair. "The good thing is that Fiona has no magic at the moment, at least not enough to be effective, but that means neither does Emma. This has to be straight combat where skill and cunning will probably determine the victor, but even though it seems to even the odds, we're still talking about the Black Fairy – the mother of everything evil. I'm quite certain she doesn't fight fair."

"I know Mom is strong enough to beat the Black Fairy," Henry insisted, "but I don't know if she'll be able to put everything Fiona made her do behind her so she can focus. The things she said to me, the things she did to Killian – it was all done on purpose to give Fiona an advantage."

"I'm afraid it doesn't really matter, Henry," Regina lamented, her tone decidedly bitter as she weighed the potential outcomes. "It's all a moot point if Hook dies. We're all going to lose no matter who wins that battle. Fiona made damned sure of it, as did her little lackey grandson."

"Well then, Blue had better be right about there being enough magic to keep Killian's heart beating," a voice announced from the corridor beyond the dismal waiting room. Recognizing the voice, everyone immediately turned toward the doorway to see the silhouette of a drenched Emma step into view, little puddles of cursed rainwater pooling at her feet.

"Mom!" Henry exclaimed, leaping to his feet and nearly tackling Emma back into the hallway as he hugged her as tight as he could. "You did it! You beat the Black Fairy!"

"Yeah, kid – I did," Emma replied with a proud, but exhausted smile curling on her lips. Her tone wasn't nearly as excited as her son's since despite her victory, the battle wasn't yet won.

"Fiona's gone?" David asked as he rose from his seat to embrace his daughter, not even caring that his clothing was now nearly as soaking wet as hers. "You killed her?"

"Yes – she's gone, for good, but no, I didn't have to kill her. Apparently, Rumple and the Blue Fairy conspired to brew up a concoction that sent her on a one-way trip to some distant, lonely realm."

"One way?" Regina asked skeptically.

"I asked the same question and according to Rumple, the portal that opened up and sucked her into oblivion has a blood seal on it that prevents her from returning to this realm, or any other, for that matter," Emma explained. "She's trapped there."

"Good riddance," David commented. "No one around here is going to miss her, but hang on, you said that Rumple and Blue were working together on this? I thought he hated fairies."

"It seems that they both hated one particular fairy enough to put their differences aside for once."

"So, the Blue Fairy just showed up?" Snow questioned, trying to figure out what role Blue played in Emma's victory.

"I guess she sort of showed up, although it was after I'd sent Fiona packing," Emma began, trying to determine the best way to explain. "She was somehow  _inside_  the sword that Rumple gave me to use against Fiona."

"It was the sword from your visions, wasn't it?" Henry asked her.

"It was. According to Blue, Fiona was manipulating those visions, but she also said that I was always destined to use that sword in battle against the Black Fairy. This Savior stuff is ridiculous sometimes, but I know now that all of the tremors and the visions were Fiona's attempts to weaken me and it damn near worked." Emma flopped onto the sofa next to her mother with an exasperated sigh before adding: "Well, it might still work…"

"What did the Blue Fairy being in the sword do to help you?" Snow wondered, still confused about what had actually transpired. "I guess I'm not understanding what she actually did or even how she got into the sword in the first place."

"I don't completely understand it all either," Emma admitted. "All I know is somehow Rumple put her, or her magic, I really don't know, into the sword so that our combined strengths could beat Fiona and send her away to her own personal hell. I had no idea Blue was even there until she materialized out of the blade when I tried to pick it up again after the battle was over."

"She wasn't able to help stop the curse though?" Henry asked but while Emma knew what he meant by the question, but she wasn't sure the answer would satisfy him – or anyone else for that matter.

"I'm afraid not, kid," she told her son. "There isn't enough magic left in Storybrooke to heal Killian and as you've probably already figured out, breaking the curse unfortunately lies with Killian. Blue took what little magic we had left and tried to use it to keep Killian's heart beating, at least for now. The town and all of us are still here so he's still hanging on, but that storm hasn't gone away either."

"As long as we're all still here, there's still hope," Snow stated, trying to lift everyone's spirits with a beaming smile, but she wasn't even totally convinced it would be enough.

"Well, that deluge outside isn't going to let up until Hook is guaranteed to survive, so we may have a long night ahead of us," Regina stated. "We can't rely on the town's power grid so we're going to have to make sure the hospital's generators keep running."

"I'll take the cruiser out and make a loop through town and see if I can get some help rounding up supplies," David offered. "And then I'll swing over and relieve the sitter. I don't think any of us is going to get much sleep tonight so we might as well bring the little guy over here with us."

"I'll check with Benny over at the power plant and see if he can divert power to this area of town," Regina said as she retrieved her cell phone from her blazer pocket. "Everyone in town needs to be aware that the hospital has priority for power tonight. If they don't like it, explain the alternative."

* * *

With the skies already pitch black from the encroaching dark clouds looming overhead, it was nearly impossible to tell when day became night. With little to do in the waiting room, Snow had dozed off with the baby snuggled against her chest and David's protective arm draped around them both. Regina had found a magazine that was a few weeks old and switched seats to be closer to one of the spotlights so she could waste time reading and Henry was trying his best to remain distracted by watching a movie on his phone (after borrowing David's portable charger so his battery wouldn't fizzle out).

Emma had taken to silently pacing along the back wall, her mind arduously replaying every horrific act she'd committed and every hurtful word she'd uttered today.  _She'd been cursed_  – that much she understood. She would never have said or done those terrible things had she not been cursed but yet in one of those nagging back corners of her brain, she harbored enough lingering doubt to keep second-guessing herself. What if Fiona's curse had really just brought some of her true feelings to the surface instead of implanted false memories and emotions? What if that awful person really existed somewhere within her psyche? Would she run the risk of hurting her family again one day without realizing it?

It was a fear that Emma didn't dare speak of even though rationally, she knew her parents had similar regrets of their cursed selves. She didn't really know what else to do – torture herself with futile attempts to find the right words to apologize to her husband? Would he even want to still be her husband when this was all through? He'd have every right to push her away if he chose to and as much as it would break her heart, she probably deserved it.

Thankfully, the sound of approaching footsteps would delay those thoughts for a while. Regina was the first to notice the faint echoes in the corridor after the extended silence, but as the sound drew closer, they all snapped to attention, hoping that this would be the good news they'd been anxiously awaiting. David gently nudged his slumbering wife to wake her as Dr. Whale lumbered into the room, still clad in his pale blue surgical scrubs, although he'd already shed the outer protective gown. Before uttering a word, the doctor yanked the matching blue cap off of his head, shoving it into his pocket as he focused his attention on a nearly quivering Emma.

"I'm going to keep this brief because it's been a long night, and I'm not even going to attempt to speculate on where all of those wounds came from. I've got him patched up as best as I can for now. My primary focus was getting that bullet out of his chest and repairing the damage it caused. It tore a hole through his right lung that couldn't entirely be fixed, but he can survive without the piece I had to remove. Honestly, even without that section, his lungs are probably still in better shape than his liver after a couple of centuries of heavy rum swigging, but I shouldn't digress…

"His impaired right lung did collapse from the trauma but it will re-inflate in time. To be safe and to give that lung some help in healing, I'm going to keep him on a ventilator for the next 24 to 48 hours so don't expect him to be awake and talking anytime soon. He's stable for now, but these next couple of days are going to be critical. He coded on the operating table and with these damned power fluctuations, we nearly lost him. I'm not taking any chances.

"In regard to his other injuries, I couldn't do much with all of those lacerations on his back aside from cleaning them up a bit and getting him started on a strong antibiotic to try to clear the infection. Most had already scabbed over so he'll have some nasty new scars to add to his already extensive collection. Lastly, I repaired the most threatening damage from the puncture wound to his left shoulder, but it will likely require additional surgery down the line to remove some bone shards and properly repair the tendon and ligament tears. For now, I've immobilized the arm to prevent further injury to the joint. It's not something I'm going to worry for at least a few days though. Saving his life was far more important."

" _You have no idea_ ," Regina muttered under her breath as she glanced over at a visibly shaken Emma who appeared as though she might vomit at any moment. "Thank you for the update, Victor," Regina said aloud after figuring that Emma wasn't ready to speak just yet.

"Will we be able to see him soon?" David asked.

"In a little while," the doctor replied. "I'll send a nurse to get you once he's out of recovery and settled into a room. Let's just all hope that the power holds out so the life-support systems don't fail before he's strong enough for us to wean him off of them."

"That's already been addressed. All of Storybrooke's auxiliary power is being diverted to this quadrant and we've secured additional fuel for the generators," Regina assured him. "It should be enough to keep everything operational for at least another full day if needed. If all goes well, this storm should pass by then."

"Alright, that's good to know," Whale responded with a satisfied nod. "Right now, I'm going to try to get in a little power nap before I collapse, but rest assured that two of Storybrooke's finest nurses are tending to Jones as we speak and know to page me immediately should there be any change. One last thing, when I do give the okay for visitors, no more than two at a time. Emma, as his wife, you're welcome to stay the night, but the rest of you, go home and get some sleep. You all look like a bunch of zombies."

"Thanks, Victor," Emma squeaked out as the doctor turned around and left. Regina wanted to make a snide reply to Whale's zombie remark, but she held her tongue. There was enough tension in the room already and it wasn't going to break with a single wisecrack so Regina knew it was best to settle in for a very long night.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I must apologize that this chapter took a little longer to complete than planned as we've been busy packing and moving stuff to our new home. I've been so exhausted every night that I couldn't look at a Word doc with out my eyes crossing! This conclusion does contain some flashbacks to earlier events as Emma has to confront her guilt. How will Killian react? Will Fiona's plan to destroy true love come to pass?

A little over an hour later, before heading back to his office for his power nap, Dr. Whale checked in as his patient was moved into one of Storybrooke Hospital's two Intensive Care rooms. Killian Jones was about as stable as they had expected post-op so the doctor gave his blessing for family to visit. At this late hour, he instructed his staff that Emma was welcome to stay the night if she wished but that all other guests could remain only until 10pm.

No one on the hospital staff could imagine the anguish that Emma was experiencing over what seemed like a simple act - showing support for her recuperating husband. Yesterday, she and Killian had exchanged wedding vows and now, merely a single day later, she was a heartbeat away from becoming a widow. But that thought scarcely scratched the surface of her emotion. None of these people knew what Emma had done while cursed. Most could barely recall anything that had happened during their cursed day, but Emma remembered too much – and her guilt ran deep. She was fully responsible for where Killian now lay. She may not have pulled the trigger, but she'd given herself fully to the false memories Fiona had forced upon her.

_Why hadn't she been strong enough to resist? Why didn't she believe her own son?_ Henry had been trying to tell her the truth, but then so had Killian, and she'd dismissed them both. She wasn't the one who'd fired the bullet into Killian's chest, but she may as well have. What she'd done was unforgivable.

As the elevator doors parted on the third floor, Emma took a tentative step into the corridor, grateful that Henry was at her side. She couldn't have done this alone. He'll, she wasn't even sure she was capable of facing her husband even with her son here providing support. Her knees were already shaking and the flock of butterflies that had taken up residence in her stomach had her ready to vomit - although she took a minute bit of comfort in the fact that Killian couldn't tell her how much he hated her while he was comatose.

Her heart leapt into her throat as they made their way down the hall, getting closer to Killian's room. Emma was certain that Henry could hear the wild thumping from inside her chest, but he'd never let her know if he did. Despite all of the horrible things she'd said to him, Henry had already forgiven her, giving her a glimmer of hope that Killian might forgive her too. Of course, she'd only assaulted her son with words. She'd done far worse things to her husband.

"Emma," the nurse behind the desk greeted her with a warm smile. "Your husband is in the room on the left. We've tried to make him as comfortable as possible until he regains consciousness, but if you see anything you aren't happy with, please let us know and we'll see if we can make things better. I just want to let you know that he's going to look a little pale and possibly a little swollen. They're just typical side effects that will gradually return to normal as he recuperates. There's a chair in the room that folds out into a little bed if you wish to stay here tonight, although we can't promise that it won't be a little noisy. Medical staff will be in and out all night checking on his recovery."

"It's fine," Emma replied, trying hard to force a gracious smile onto her own lips. "I… I don't know yet…"

"it's alright. We don't expect you to rush into any decisions," the nurse assured her. "He's stable, but he won't be conscious for a while yet. It will do him good to have family support so why don't you go ahead in to see him?"

"Thanks," Henry responded for his mother when Emma hesitated, steering her towards the floor to ceiling glass partition that defined the room that his stepfather occupied. The sliding door was open and even from this distance, the unnatural sounds emitted by the machines inside attacked her senses.

Emma wasn't certain what she really expected but there was nothing to hide behind. Everything was transparent – no real door and no opaque walls – only a barrier of crystal clear glass that wouldn't prevent her from seeing the battered, broken shell of her husband. Her knees didn't want to hold her upright anymore and every nerve ending in her body was itching with the instinct to flee.

She could barely bring herself to look at Killian as he lay motionless on the narrow bed. He looked so small and frail, nearly engulfed by the plethora of monitors and intimidating machines surrounding him. His closed eyes appeared sunken with deep, darkened circles defining them (as if he'd smudged his kohl far too thick), the blackness standing out starkly against the pallid, almost grayish tone of his skin. The tube that extended down into his windpipe protruded from between his lips and from six feet away, she could hear the distinctive, rhythmic hiss of the ventilator that was essentially breathing for him while his perforated lung healed.

She knew he couldn't see her, couldn't see the tears welling in her eyes as she wallowed deeper into her own guilt. Flashes of her actions began to flood her in increasingly disturbing waves. The baton repeatedly lashing at his back, flaying open skin with every blow, bruising muscle and cracking bone below. And that had merely been the prelude as she'd taken the second torture session to even more depraved depths - leaving him chained, gagged and humiliated for over an hour while she'd prepared.

She'd gone on to shackle him to a metal table and electrocute him, all before committing the ultimate insult by burying his own hook into the sinew of his left shoulder. She'd turned his deepest insecurities against him as she'd forced that cold, steel prosthetic down to the bone – relishing his screams into the gag while she'd grinned and laughed at him. _How on earth could she face him? Whatever would she be able to say to defend herself? Would his unconscious ears even hear her beg for forgiveness and say how sorry she truly was?_

It was too overwhelming and she wasn't prepared. "I can't do this… I can't do this right now…" she sobbed, yanking herself away from her son's supportive arms. She drew her sleeve across her face in a feeble attempt to erase the tear tracks as she backed away, darting for the relative safety of the elevator.

_36 hours later_

After a little coaxing and a very serious heart to heart conversation with her family, Emma finally reclaimed the strength that had forsaken her earlier. While it hadn't been even the slightest bit easy to sit at her husband's bedside, she knew it was where she belonged. Dr. Whale had warned that the first night could be rough and he'd not exaggerated. Killian's blood pressure seemed to rise or fall randomly as his overburdened heart struggled to keep pumping and even with the ventilator aiding his breathing, his impaired lungs were barely drawing in enough oxygen, triggering alarms all evening.

But he held on.

By the next evening, he'd made enough improvement that he could breathe on his own and Whale had removed the breathing tube. A less intrusive, narrow cannula tucked beneath his nostrils replaced it, still providing his unconscious body with supplemental oxygen as he recovered from the myriad of wounds. Now, neither Killian's condition nor the inclement weather outside seemed as dire as they'd been just twenty four hours ago.

As the second dawn broke, Emma was awakened by a tendril of hazy sunlight peeking between the window blinds and the gleeful chirping of a little bird perched on the ledge outside. Together, they'd weathered the storm, but first, she had to convince herself that this wasn't a dream. She'd stretched as she planted her feet on the floor, glancing over at the clock hanging on the wall which revealed the time to be nearly 9am. Had she actually slept that soundly? The last thing she remembered was a nurse checking Killian's vitals around 1am. Or maybe it was 2?

She made her way to the window and gently tugged at the cord to open the vertical blinds, blinking at the brilliance and welcome beauty of the blue skies beyond the glass. There wasn't a grey cloud in sight and there was no doubt that the curse was broken. Fiona's dark magic had been vanquished by the simple act of Killian Jones surviving. Physically, she now had the confirmation that he was going to be fine, but so much healing was going to be necessary and with the curse broken and magic returning, she knew she could help him, should he allow it. She certainly could remedy the physical ailments, but she was wise enough to realize that a discussion of magical healing wouldn't be the first subject broached when he woke. Inevitably, she'd have to face him, and after two nights thinking of little else, she was ready to prepare for their uncertain future – at least she thought she was ready.

The buzzing and rattling of her phone against the metal nightstand brought her back down to earth and as she retrieved it, she wasn't the least bit surprised to discover that it was her father calling. Waking up to bright, blue skies probably had everyone in town celebrating another curse defeated, but Emma wasn't exactly ready to celebrate anything just yet, so she hoped he wasn't too overly excited. She answered the call with every expectation of hearing queries about Killian's status but what she ended up hearing caught her entirely off guard.

"Good morning, Dad."

"Emma, I'm so glad you answered. Do you think you can make it down to the station right away?" David asked and Emma could hear the urgency and anxiety in his voice.

"Uh, yeah… I suppose so…" she replied, dragging her boots out from beneath the chair.

"Great! I think the curse broke and things got weird."

"Weird? What sort of _weird_ – giant snowman weird or flying monkey weird?"

"I suppose you'll have to see this one for yourself… I wasn't even sure what to do next…"

"Okay, then… I'll be there in a few minutes. Killian hasn't woke up yet so I don't think he'll miss me…"

"Thanks! See you in a few!" David said before disconnecting the call. She had no idea what could be so pressing at the station but something definitely had David flustered. She sat down for a moment to tug on her boots then grabbed her leather jacket that she'd draped over the back of the fold-out chair. She considered flipping it back into chair form, but decided she'd better not take the extra time. Before leaving, she stooped over to plant a tentative, but tender kiss onto Killian's forehead and then scurried out the door. The curse might have been broken but there was still apparently never a dull moment in Storybrooke.

* * *

Emma didn't even need to take that first step through the doorway of the Sheriff station to understand exactly why David had called. The wail of an unhappy infant echoed throughout the squad room and she immediately spotted her exasperated father pacing the floor in front of the holding cell cradling a screeching newborn against his shoulder.

"Uh – Dad?" she asked, struggling to wrap her brain around what an infant might be doing here in the station. "Why are you holding a screaming baby?"

"I don't really know… I came in this morning around eight and went into your office with every intention of helping catch up on some paperwork. After checking the answering machine for any reports that might have come in overnight with the storms, I sat here listening as Gideon was in the cell grumbling about breakfast being late. I was ignoring him, but just as the rain finally let up and the skies cleared, I heard this little one squawking from inside the holding cell."

"The baby was _inside_ the cell?"

"Yes, and only Gideon was in there before. I think this is him."

"Baby Gideon?" Emma asked incredulously, realizing that in Storybrooke's timeline, Gideon would have only been a few weeks old. The Dark Realm of the Black Fairy had aged him abnormally and it appeared that breaking Fiona's curse had reverted him back to his true age. "Have you tried calling Belle?"

"You were the first person I called - well, second person. I tried your mother first but she didn't answer so I wasn't sure what else to do."

"Sounds like he's hungry," Emma commented as she decided this would be a good time to test that her magic was restored, conjuring up a bottle full of baby formula. "So nice to have magic back," she smiled as she handed the bottle to David who repositioned the baby into the crook of his elbow. The hungry infant instantly latched on and gulped the milk greedily. "Yep – he was hungry."

"I guess we really should call Belle and maybe Gold," David stated as he stared at the infant in his arms. "Although, since this whole mess with Fiona began after Belle tried to send Gideon away from Rumplestiltskin, maybe calling him isn't such a great idea…"

"I'll leave that up to Belle. You feed that little guy and I'll give her a call. If our hunch is correct and this really is Gideon, hopefully she'll be able to identify him. He was only a few hours old when she handed him over to the Blue Fairy."

* * *

One brief phone call to an overjoyed mother and her instant recognition of a very distinct birthmark allowed Emma to reunite Belle with her son. Apparently, this was what the fairies had meant when they'd referenced restoring Gideon's innocence – giving him back a clean slate by reverting him back to his actual age. This time, he'd be raised properly by a loving mother instead of a manipulative, psychotic fairy, but no one really knew if he'd retain any memories of his upbringing under Fiona's control. There was always a chance it could lead to nightmares or some sort of mental disassociation later, but for now, he was a happy baby in his mother's arms and truthfully, Emma was a tiny bit jealous.

What she wouldn't have given to be able to turn back the clock on her own ordeal - to forget every toxic thing she'd said and done while languishing under the control of Fiona's curse. Gideon might not have killed anyone while serving as Fiona's lackey, but he'd hurt a lot of people and somehow, he was still deserving of a restart? She seriously considered taking a dream catcher to strip herself of those hurtful memories, but feared it wouldn't be enough. She'd have to do the same to Killian, to Henry, and to anyone else who knew the truth and where was the fairness in that? No, there wasn't going to be a _reset_ button for her or anyone else who'd been harmed and that fact just stung bitterly.

She'd made her way back to the hospital as soon as she could after the joyful parent-child reunion. As a mother, she was truly happy for Belle – she really was – but she couldn't bear to be surrounded by someone else's joy while she was still so miserable. There was a definite degree of unfairness to it, but Emma supposed that as long as the curse was broken and Killian's life was spared, it wasn't her place to question the fates.

When she arrived, she was almost relieved to find her husband still sleeping soundly, grateful to delay the inevitable confrontation a little while longer. She peeled off her jacket and tossed it casually across the back of the chair before slumping down into the seat that someone from the staff had folded back into a chair. After two nights here, she'd grown accustomed to the constant blips and beeps of the machines, comforted by the fact that fewer devices were necessary and that the sounds had grown increasingly consistent. She found herself watching his chest rise and fall with each shallow breath, noting that normal color was returning to his skin as her eyes drifted upward to see the rosy flush across his cheeks.

Perhaps he was a little too warm? She could see that he had two blankets draped over him, one ivory and another that was a faded pale blue. His brow also seemed to be covered with a faint sheen of sweat so she decided to tug the top blanket off of him, tossing it to the foot of the bed. It must have been a relief to him as he seemed to take a deeper breath and she thought she heard him return a little moan of gratitude when her fingertips stroked his stubbled jowl. She ran a fingernail through his thicker whiskers that had grown nearly into a full beard speckled with flecks of ginger and silver, certain he'd be anxious for a shave once he awakened.

Despite her own lingering doubt, she permitted a ghost of a smile to lift the corners of her lips as she rested her hand atop his, gently curling her fingers around his while cautiously trying not to disturb the IV catheter taped to his wrist. She then prepared herself for what would likely be another long day of waiting by tipping her head back and squeezing her eyes shut before her ears perked at the rustle of fabric. Instantly alert, her eyes flew open as she felt a minute twitch against her fingertips.

"Killian?" she called out expectantly, eager to witness his eyelids flutter open or hear his voice for the first time since she'd regained her senses. She tried to squeeze his fingers to reassure him that she was there with him, but instead of welcoming the gesture, his fingers jerked away from her grasp. "I'm sorry…" she stammered as that single, reflexive motion drove a dagger straight through her already aching heart. "I didn't mean to…"

"Swan?" his gravely, confused voice asked. "Is that you?" The question came with such skepticism that it almost made her want to slink away. She knew he'd already recognized her voice but in her heart, Emma knew why he'd asked that particular question. He wanted to know if it was _really_ her, not the vicious cursed persona waiting to do him further harm.

"Yes, it's me," she replied shyly, her eyes welling both with tears of joy and uncertainty. "It's really me, Killian, and I owe you the biggest apology… What I've done…" She swallowed down the lump forming in the back of her throat and just let it all out. "You have every right to hate me for it and if you don't want me to stay, I understand but I wasn't going to leave until I had the chance to tell you how sorry I am."

Her apology came in rapid fire rambling that had Killian's still-fuzzy brain overloading. He forced his heavy eyelids open, blinking a few times as his sight adjusted to the brightness of the room. He quickly discovered that his weary muscles didn't want to respond but he somehow managed to grasp her wrist, causing her to pause for a breath. "Love, please…," he pleaded with her as he agonizingly shifted his weight enough to enable him to look her in the eye. "That wasn't you."

"You didn't even want me to touch you a moment ago," she sobbed. "I get it – you're still afraid I might hurt you again…"

"What? What do you mean?"

"You pulled your hand away from me when you woke and heard my voice."

"Emma, I was startled. I guess I flinched – probably would have at anyone's touch out of sheer self-preservation instinct…" He had to take a brief pause there as his body reminded him why he was lying in a hospital bed. "I awoke in a strange place with my last waking memory being nothing but pain…" He winced when trying to find a position where he didn't ache, unsure how much longer he could withstand the physical toll that this conversation was taking on him. Everything hurt – the searing ache in his chest, the burning sensation from the countless welts on his back and the dry, scratchy flames licking at his throat, making it agonizing just to swallow, let alone talk. He was beginning to feel his body coaxing him to return to the deep slumber, but he wasn't ready just yet. "Is there something here I could drink?" he finally asked when he couldn't bear the sensation that he'd swallowed a sandbar any longer.

"Um, yeah, I think so…," she answered, almost thankful that he'd changed the subject. She glanced over to the rolling side table where the nurse had earlier left a cup filled with ice chips as they'd anticipated Killian might experience a dry, sore throat when he came around. "Victor wasn't sure how well you'd be able to swallow so he didn't want you drinking too much but he did say you could have some ice. I know it's not much, but…"

"It's fine, Love," he assured her as she scooped up a flat, round chunk of ice onto the plastic spoon the nurse had left for them and raised it to his mouth. She let the ice slide off onto his tongue without saying a word and while he would have preferred to chug a fifth of rum, he thanked her for helping this little bit.

"Try not to talk so much for a while," she advised. "Maybe use some shorter sentences? Victor said your throat might be irritated for a few days from the breathing tube. Are you in a lot of pain right now?"

"Delightful," he grumbled in response to her comment about the breathing tube, whatever that was, but he wasn't quite certain how to reply to her query. He wanted to tell her that of course, he was in a lot of pain, but even in his compromised state, he could tell how much guilt was eating away at her, so he lied for her sake. "I'm sore, but I'll survive." Now it was his turn to ask a question. "What about Fiona?"

"She's gone – sent back to her miserable, lonely realm that she'll never be able to leave again. She won't be back."

"Your family?"

She'd forgotten that he'd been unconscious and bleeding out in the center of Main Street when he'd broken that portion of the Black Fairy's curse by committing an act of True Love as he'd shielded Henry from Gideon's bullet. She didn't think that this was the best time to delve into those darker details so she left out a bit of the tale. "They were all freed from Fiona's snow globe prison when the curse broke. They're all safe and sound and looking forward to seeing you recover. We didn't quite get to finish our wedding reception, or get to our honeymoon for that matter – provided you still want that…"

The insecurity in her voice made him ache even more than all of his wounds. "We'll get there, Love," he promised. "I'm not going anywhere…" He was gradually losing his tenuous grip on consciousness as his body's craving for sleep intensified.

"Why don't you get some rest and we'll talk more when you're feeling stronger?" she urged as his head sunk back against the pillows once again. Emma doubted he'd even heard the last few words as his eyes fell closed. He'd learn soon enough what an important role he'd played, how his sacrifice had freed their family and how his survival (and a tiny pinch of magic) had saved them all. For now, she knew it was best to let him sleep and revel in how much this man loved her – so much that he'd apparently forgiven all the atrocities she'd committed against him. There hadn't been a hint of animosity in anything he'd said and despite her initial fear of rejection, he'd not sent her away. This man who'd once doubted that he could be a hero had prevented all of their undoings and as far as she was concerned, had earned himself a new chapter in the stories Fiona has sought to destroy.

_Yep, she thought, Killian Jones – Storybrooke's newest Savior._


End file.
